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painofhumanity · 10 months

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NAME: Zackary Henry Allen NICKNAME(S): Zack, Blondie, Twiggy ALIAS: Lightspeed D.O.B: February 21 AGE: 18 ORIENTATION: heterosexual SPECIES: meta-kryptonian FAMILY: Barry Allen (dad), Kara Danvers-Allen (mom, deceased), Eddie Thawne & Iris West-Thawne (paternal aunt and uncle), Wally West (paternal uncle), Esther "Echo" Thawne (paternal cousin), AJ Thawne (paternal cousin), Clark Kent & Lois Lane (maternal aunt and uncle), Jon Kent (maternal cousin), Jordan Kent (maternal cousin), Alex Danvers (maternal aunt), Lane Danvers (maternal cousin), Sophie Danvers (maternal cousin), Henry & Nora Allen (paternal grandparents, deceased), Joe West (adopted paternal grandpa, alive), Zor-El & Alura Zor-El (maternal grandparents, deceased), Jeremiah & Eliza Danvers (adopted maternal grandparents, alive)

Zack was never a normal kid. His father was a speedster who could travel through time and space, and his mother was an alien from a planet that was nothing more than rubble long before he was born. As far back as he could remember, he was always different from the other kids, and he had to learn early on how to keep a secret. That was okay, though.

He was faster and stronger than everyone at school, and his family was full of some of the most amazing people in the world. Auntie Alex was a secret agent, Grandpa Joe was a cop, and his parents were friends with all kinds of superheroes.

Zack was exactly what one would imagine the son of Barry Allen and Kara Danvers would be like: he had a big, goofy smile, an even bigger heart, he was always willing to help, always trying to do the right thing. His parents did everything they could to teach him how to control his powers and use them safely. Some things came easily to him, like his super speed. Other things, like flying, were a lot harder for him; Zack tried flying once and it didn’t go well, and he’s all but refused to fly ever since unless it was absolutely necessary. As he grew, so did his powers. Much like his voice changing and starting to grow body hair, some powers developed as he got older.

While he was born in Central City, his father’s hometown, his parents ultimately decided to raise him in National City. Barry went to work for the NCPD as a forensic scientist (officially), while also helping out at the DEO, both as a scientist and as The Flash. He also made frequent trips back home throughout the week, not wanting to leave the people of Central without their personal hero. Weekends were spent with Grandpa Joe and the rest of their extended family back in Central City.

While Zack loved his world, it wasn’t without its flaws or problems. There were plenty. Not the least of which was a sudden uprising of powerful villains when he was in high school. Even though he could fight, his parents wanted him to have as normal a life as possible at least until he was out of high school. That plan didn’t work so well when an alien hate group kidnapped his mom halfway through his senior year.

The DEO had everyone searching for her. His dad barely rested, let alone slept, while he ran all over the city, the state, the country, desperately trying to find his wife. As the weeks went by, new weapons appeared on the black market that seemed to give normal humans the powers of a Kryptonian. Eventually, Zack couldn’t take sitting idly by any longer. He suited up (literally, since Uncle Cisco had made him a suit for his sixteenth birthday) and joined the search for Kara. When they finally found her… there was hardly anything left of her. The group had used her up leaving her barely clinging to life.

Zack, not even eighteen yet, couldn’t handle it. Even as Kara weakly tried to assure them both that she was okay, Zack felt himself losing control. The last thing he remembered was the wide eyed look his mother gave him as she tried to get his father to turn around and look at their son, to stop him… That was his last memory of her alive. Barry told him over and over that it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t really believe that, not when he didn’t actually remember what happened.

Aunt Caitlin called it repression; his subconscious was protecting his conscious mind from whatever happened, whatever he had done. He got flashes, sometimes, when he was asleep, but he always woke up screaming soon after those dreams began.

After graduation, Zack decided to do what his father wouldn’t–couldn’t, if Barry was to be believed. They weren’t supposed to go back in time to change big events, his dad said. The ripple effects were too great and dangerous. Well, screw that. He tried doing things the “right way”. He tried to grieve and move on with his life like a normal person, and it didn’t work for him. So, during his graduation party, he snuck out and ran.

He ran faster than he’d ever gone in his life until he saw that portal open up, then he dove through. In hindsight, he thought maybe he should have paid more attention to his dad’s stories about traveling through time; mainly the part about how long it had taken his dad to actually master it.

Zack went back in time, alright, but he didn’t just go back a few months. He ran too far and ended up in a time before he was born. If that weren’t enough, it turned out he’d traveled to a different Earth as well, to a universe where his parents lived in separate dimensions.

Terrific.

#{⚡} zack allen ; bio #//i swear i wrote his bio out before but i can't find it so here we go

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slightlyaboveaverageiq · 1 year

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The Whisperer: Part 19 (Wally Clark Fic)

I poked his cheek one, two, three times just for good measure and Wally didn’t even flinch. He did however let out an obnoxiously loud snore and I glared at him. Must be nice to be able to sleep without a care in the world instead of mentally hyping yourself up to go ask an all knowing star angel if you were going to have a ghost-human hybrid baby. Actually you know what technically I couldn’t have gotten myself pregnant therefore it was all Wally’s fault and he should have to be the one to ask Arif. ….And he would accidentally say something extremely offensive to the whisperers and I would never be able to show my face ever again. I sighed and closed my eyes.

“I was wondering when you would make your appearance young Morrigan.” I looked at my left and smiled. A middle aged man with olive skin bright green eyes and black hair stood at the bottom of a set of stairs leading to a large palace, arms outstretched waiting for me to run over!

“Arif!” I laughed and ran over to him wrapping my arms around him and wishing -not for the first time- that Arif would just manifest a human body so he could come and visit me but he had told me on more than one occasion that the universe knows exactly how many bodies it would have and who was he to go against the universe. “You knew I was coming and you couldn’t have just sent me the answer? You obviously know why I came here.”

“How was it that your little spirit friend put it, ah yes. You’ve come to ask if you’re having a hybrid baby.” I blushed a little and looked away from him. Fucking all knowing Angel Star and his need to know..well everything. “But you also want to know why it is you feel physically uncomfortable being away from young Wally and why you have an over exaggerated sexual response to him.”

“Arif…that’s weird don’t try to sound all clinical and stuff. Just tell me. Can ghosts and humans make babies? Also why do I want to be around Wally all the time aside from the obvious.” He sighed and sat at the bottom stair patting for me to do so beside him.

“Technically no, ghosts and humans can’t have children. However, you know fully well you are special and not a normal human. You were made for young Wally, you are his other half. That’s why we couldn’t let you cross over with your parents. If you had then what needed to be done wouldn’t able to be done. To bluntly answer your question Morrigan, no you’re not currently with child. However, you will eventually have a child with Wally, you may even have more than one with him. The reason you two want to be around each other is two things: one like I said you were made for him, you are quite literally his other half so yes it will be uncomfortable for you two to be apart. And two: he on some level recognizes what I have just told you, and unfortunately the male part of that tends to want their female partners to well…be with child even if he only subconsciously realizes it.”

“But what is it that you so desperately need me to do that I had to stay? And what happens to me when it’s done? Do I die?” He gave a sad smile.

“You will know when you know, no my sweet Mori I would never just cast you away after you served your purpose. You will have two choices, to live your life the way you currently are. Or to join Wally. Your child will be able to move between the two worlds much like you can now and will make the decision at 21 on which they will choose.”

“Does Wally know? I mean how much does he really know?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t know, Wally wasn’t part of my assignment. I do know that he cares greatly for you, that he wants you for the rest of his afterlife. I believe part of him realizes he’s trying to get you pregnant but the other half simply believes he is showing affection for his girlfriend.”

“Mo!” He both tilted our heads and saw Wally violently shaking me trying to get my attention I winced a little bit. That was going to be hurting in the morning.

“You’ve given Wally quite the scare, I believe it’s time you go back. I’ll let you know when I have more answers.” I hugged the man in front of me before jumping back into my body.

“Mo! Are you okay?” I shook my head quickly and blinked a few times trying to get my bearings. I looked and saw Wally frantically looking me over probably looking for any physical reason I wasn’t answering.

“I’m okay Wally I’m sorry, I must have spaced out or something.” He gave me a look like are you fucking kidding me?

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for 10 minutes and you spaced out?” I shrugged and laid down pulling him down with me.

“I’m sorry, what did you need?” I was always exhausted when I came back and I didn’t want to be rude to Wally since it looked like I had worried him a good bit. I traced my finger along his chest and he took my hand in his and kissed it gently.

“I had this dream. And I was alive and I was able to give you everything that I can’t now. And I’m just so sorry.” He looked at me and his face looked so torn I reached up and cupped his cheek before kissing it.

“You can give me everything I want Wally, I’m sorry I worried you let’s go back to sleep.”

#wally clark #maddie nears #rhonda #school spirits #fanfic

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balis77 · 5 months

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You know I feel like whenever people talk about something that's been going on so long the quality has decayed because the creators just keep throwing out more stuff, they're usually talking about long runner cartoons like Spongebob or Fairy Odd Parents, or shows that went way past the point of original planning and lost the original plot like Walking Dead or Game of Thrones.

But you know what's probably the ultimate example of "We've been going so long and through so many writers we've lost all semblance of sanity"? Fucking comics. You have any idea how absolutely deranged mainline DC and Marvel have gotten over the years, using the same narrative for their main titles for so long?

Eddie Brock got retconned into having cancer, then retconned into thinking he had cancer because the symbiote wanted him to think he had cancer so he wouldn't take it off, only it turned out it did so so well it actually gave him cancer

Wally West once accidentally murdered a whole bunch of superheroes at a superhero mental health facility because his powers randomly overloaded in a way that never happened before or since. It was a whole mystery as to who could've done it and not only was Wally not one of the suspects the whole time, he was thought to be one of the victims, and there was absolutely 0 foreshadowing or clues to any of this being the case.

Jason Todd initially came back to life because a multiverse variant of Superman (Superboy Prime, long story) punched reality so hard it retconned him into never dying in the first place. Except everything else played out the same so he literally had to break out of his own coffin even though he never died.

Scarlet Witch and Quicksliver have been retconned back and forth from being Magneto's kids like a dozen fucking times. And note, the idea that they could be his kids in the first place was itself a retcon since they were initially labeled as being the kids of two completely different superheroes from Golden Age.

The symbiotes went from being "Strange alien slimes that act as symbiotic suits for people" to being the spawn of the god of darkness, who's original appearance for them was... a bunch of dragons. Not the symbiotes possessing dragons just... symbiotes perfectly formed into the shape of dragons. And two of these dragons wound up on Earth in ancient times and were the basis for Grendel and his mother from Beowulf.

Spider-Man once discovered Gwen Stacy had an affair with Norman Osborne, and because of the goblin formula in his body the kids from that affair aged rapidly to adults who Osborne then sent to kill Peter by telling them that Peter was their father and killed their mother. Mary Jane even told Peter she knew about the affair beforehand... except this was so unpopular it got retconned to being even more ridiculous, because actually the affair wasn't real, Norman had Mysterio hypnotize MJ into thinking it was real by disguising himself as her therapist, the kids were actually clones he made (and weren't in on any of this), and the whole thing was just a needlessly elaborate bit to fuck with Peter Parker.

In both DC and Marvel vampires are real. Not like, "there was a scientific experiment that made someone with vampire-like abilities" (Even though this has happened in both. Characters like Man-Bat and Morbius just coincidentally super-scienced their way into similar traits), not any kind of mutant or metahuman infection, but like, just normal, Bram Stoker-style vampires are real and always have been. Dracula is a character in both. Hell in Marvel he fought alongside Captain America in World War 2 against the Nazis. Jubilee got turned into a vampire for a while because Dracula's son bit her.

#comics are fucking weird #Honestly I maintain that though good stories do come up now and again dc and marvel comics are best used as a mythos to draw from #because all this happening in the same universe is absolutely fucked man #DC comics #Marvel #spoilers for a lot of events #long runner shows #comic books

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iphoenixrising · 3 years

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The Demon You Know

Day 1 Urban Fantasy AU | Magical/Supernatural Creatures | Time Travel

So, something a little off the grid for my first day of DickTim Week 2021. Special thanks to my wonderful babe @vellaphoria for the beta and the incredible peeps on the Capes and Coffee discord (looking at you @themandylion, @strawberryjei and others). Also need to show my undying love for @chippon because babe, we are making it work.

When the sun creeps up over the sky in Gotham, then it’s time to GTFO. Capes in the daytime aren’t the usual for the city, and Red Robin has been playing it too late, staying out far past O’s warning to bring it in for the night. So, really, he’s only got himself to blame.

His penthouse perch has seen more use in the last few months since, welp, Gotham and the fact he likes to get away from the team mentality sometimes, like to return to his roots and run the rooftops like when he was still that Robin. His trips to the Manor had become more frequent since B was back in the cowl and things in the family seemed to be returning to some semblance of normal.

Well, as normal as it could get, really.

But all that goodwill and positivity is literally ghost. Red’s hands are shaky and his inner calm is absolutely blown. He’s ducking into his perch to throw his suit off, grab his duffle bag full of sundries and fake idents, then he’s going to hit the airport as fast as he can get a flight the hell out of town, away from the terrifying sight.

(He should just call Bart or Kon or Cassie, tell them he needs an out faster than he can arrange it himself, he needs to get away from–)

He knows he fucked up when the slight sounds, small and metallic in nature, make it past his pulse thumping in his ears.

Like a horror flick, he slowly turns as the front door gives a groan and is pushed open by a very familiar palm.

Dick’s blue eyes fall on him like a ton of bricks, on Red Robin’s feet frozen to the floor, his suit only half on, and no way he can get far enough to throw himself out a window.

Fuck.

“So,” Dick keeps his voice soft, footsteps easy as he steps inside Tim’s penthouse and closes the door behind him, “you finally found me out.”

Keeping his mouth shut in times like this has really saved his ass before, so Red doesn’t say a word, keeps every muscle in his body ready to spring for the right second –

Watching the would-be robber struggle in Dick’s grip, watching the light show brighten overwhelmingly, seeing what had to be-had to be feeding.

“I figured it would be you if anyone, actually, so I’m not really surprised, just… disappointed.” Dick continues softly, only in jeans and a t-shirt since Nightwing was oddly missing from the patrol roster last night.

And Red is apparently the only one that knows why.

“But that doesn’t mean I can just let you go, Timmy,” Dick isn’t stopping, his whole body lax while Red is wound tight, backing away from the man he thought he knew. “I really wish you hadn’t found out like this. I...I had other plans.”

Whirlybirds and pellets aren’t going to help him here. Hand-to-hand and martial arts, aerial acrobatics, none of it is going to make a difference.

His throat goes dry when Dick’s eyes get more and more blue, when his former mentor doesn’t stop advancing, and Red Robin is running out of room to back away.

“I tried to save you, Timmy. I tried so hard to get you away, out of Gotham, even if you went because you thought you had to find Bruce, I’m the one that gave you the compulsion to leave.” The low laugh is edged with something desperate, “why the hell couldn’t you stay away?”

“This is my city, just as much as Batman’s. You taking my fucking cape wasn’t enough,” Red Robin bites out, back thumping against the kitchen counter, realizing Dick had backed him into the corner. “How did you keep it from him? Constantine, Zatanna, all the magic users he has on speed dial and he never figured you out? No one in the JLA or Titans did?”

That makes Dick pause.

“He never had to. He knew what my parents were before they ever died, Timmy. Haley’s Circus came to Gotham regularly. Bruce always knew.”

The information blast hits him painfully, that Bruce didn’t bother to tell him and look at where they are now.

“And he didn’t try to help you?” Red, Tim, gapes at the still silhouette that used to be someone he thought he knew like he knew himself. Someone that’s always had this secret. “He didn’t try to –”

“Cure me?” Dick’s mouth lifts in a semblance of a smile Tim knows. “There is no cure for this, Timmy. It’s what I am. What my parents both were, the curse of the Romain Bababiljos. It’s unfortunate for me both of them were cursed, that just makes the...the hunger two-fold.”

And it’s just a few more steps, a raised hand that makes Tim flinch back, but only a fingertip taps the edge of the domino, makes the whiteouts raise.

Automatically, with everything he’s learned, studied, experienced about supernatural creatures, he ducks his head so he isn’t looking directly into those eyes. That doesn’t stop Dick from bracketing Tim in, both hands on the counter, their bodies a breath apart.

Dick laughs softly, close enough for Tim to feel the breath on his face. “The Titans...I never had to tell them. By then, I could control myself, at least mostly. The JLA? I’m one of the Batman’s proteges. I’ve been fighting crime since I was eight. They believe in me. There was never a reason for any of them to look too deeply past the surface.”

“Wh-what do you mean mostly?” Tim’s heart slams in his chest, “how many people have you killed, Dick?”

“Do you have any idea how awful the hunger is?” And the lower Dick’s voice goes, the harder Tim’s heart starts to pound. “Surviving on hugs and family affection is tantamount to starvation for someone like me. It’s so easy to kill someone during sex because the hunger is so much I can’t control it sometimes. Anyone I’m with is in danger. That’s why I couldn’t stay with Babs, she’s too human. The one time I came close–”

Dick breathes again and all Tim looks at is the span of throat, thinking of the soft, vulnerable parts, anything he can use to get the fuck away.

“–but I didn’t. I have...willpower sometimes. I drained her so close, though. She was-was so fragile, Timmy, and I was so hungry. I’d been starving for so damn long. She was hospitalized for longer than she’d been when the Joker shot her, and I said never again. But Wally and Kory were...different. I could go further with him without killing them, I could get more full than I’d been in a long time. It was still dangerous for them, but I was so far gone by the time...”

“They’re both still alive. Babs is still alive. Does she–?”

“Remember? Of course not. None of them do. I made sure of that, Tim, so none of them would be afraid of me.” And the air changes when Dick gets closer, his eyes get brighter, and Tim almost chokes with the almost touch to his body under his suit. “But, you are going to be different, aren’t you? I’m not going to be able to convince your mind that what you saw was a dream.”

“So what? You’re going to make me “disappear”? You’ll give Bruce some sob story about how I got tired of the vigilante life and left for college or some shit? Going to bury me where no one will ever find me?” He isn’t looking at Dick’s face, can’t see his own end coming, can’t believe he’d put all his faith and belief in this man only to have it all come to this.

Tim laughs wetly, blinking rapidly, and everything suddenly comes together. “He won’t ever come looking for me anyway. You made sure of that when you made Damian your Robin. Nice plan, Dick. No one is going to give a shit if I’m never seen again anyway.”

And it’s stupid not to at least try, not to duck and kick out, trip up whatever Dick really is, to break a window and fucking run, try to get Bruce, Clark, Kon and Bart and Cassie, to get anyone to listen to him about what Dick really is, to try to save himself.

(If you’d never figured out Dick was Robin, if you never put yourself in front of him, you’d be safe now. Miserable but safe.)

Even if it’s his own brain pan spitting this out, he knows it’s bullshit.

If he’d never approached Dick Grayson with proof Batman was losing his mind, Tim Drake wouldn’t have reached twenty-one. The way his life was going, he would have probably hung himself long before getting to this stage in his life. If he’d never had Bruce or Alfred or Dick or Steph, if he’d never had Robin, never had Young Justice or The Titans, if he’d never had the Clench, never felt the rumble under his feet as Gotham had fallen, if he’d never had the agony of losing everyone in his life, if he’d never had the drive to prove his adopted father was alive…

The civilian Tim Drake wouldn’t have had the strength to make it through life alive.

So if this is the way he goes out, if Dick is the one that ends it for him–

There’re worse ways to go.

He’s not going to be the Joker’s next victim or Ra’s al Ghul’s heir with a mix of Lazarus Pit crazy. The HIVE, the Light, the mass of aliens he’s fought, any number of Rogue Gallery thugs, none of them will be the ones to take him out.

But this?

His career as Robin started out with Dick Grayson, so maybe...maybe it’s fitting this is the way it all ends.

He sucks in a breath and finally tilts his head up, looks up into those electric blue eyes, and lets his breath out so so slow.

Because Dick is looking at him with watery eyes, with a grimace, with something Tim can actually recognize.

But those eyes light up in his penthouse perch, take on a supernatural glow, Dick snatching his wrists in bigger hands, pulling Tim closer, the heat getting through layers of Kevlar and Nomex. And just like that, he can’t pull away, can’t pull back.

There’s no way to defend himself when Dick pulls him in, when he expects to get his throat ripped out, his neck snapped, something important crushed, for the darkness to take over and his heart to slow down to a sad, weak pitter patter.

He can’t defend himself when Dick kisses him, opens his mouth, and stuns him into going completely slack.

“I told you,” Dick growls softly when he pulls back, bends enough to get Tim laid out over his shoulder, “I had other plans.”

But Tim can’t reply, can’t do anything other than lay across Dick’s back as the Romani love deamon strides down the hallway and kicks open the bedroom door.

And if Tim Drake survives until morning, shocking the hell out of the both of them, staring up at Dick’s surprised face and glowing blue eyes, if the soft touch to his jaw contrasts sharply with the bruises and red marks blossoming all over his body from an intense night with his supernatural mentor and best friend, if Dick doesn’t whisper, “finally, finally, my mate,” before kissing him.

If the power Dick drains from him doesn’t kill him, doesn’t do more than give him the most amazing span of unending multiple orgasms to ever happen, if Dick isn’t fully satisfied for the first time in his life. If Dick doesn’t call them both off patrol for the next three nights, carts Tim back to his apartment, refuses him clothes and computers and tech, tells the Titans they’re taking a break from crime fighting while Tim is tied and gagged in his bed, sated enough to listen hazily with half-mast eyes.

If Dick doesn’t hand feed him while he’s getting feeling back in his legs (finally) and give him the full run-down about his parents. If the strange mark on his abdomen doesn’t get warm whenever Dick’s hand is on it, fingers tracing the edges, making those blue, blue eyes dilate in possessiveness. If Tim doesn’t eventually escape with his sanity intact and a little terrified how much his body craves only to have Dick chase after him with single-minded purposes to convince him they’re meant to be.

Then only the man with cameras all over Gotham, waiting and watching with bated breath and fear for his Robins, unmitigated relief when his theory proves true, would be able to give all the details.

#dicktimweek2021 #winter writes #dicktim #back on my shit #dick grayson #tim drake #my ficlet #my writing

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pricetagofficial · 3 years

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Sweet Tarts -TD

Warnings: Pure tooth-rotting fluff

Paring: Tim Drake x Wally sis! Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Tag List: @kishony-the-geek @idkmanicantenglish @unknowntoanyone @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @river-bottom-nightmare @screennamealreadyused @woahjaybird

A/N: I did not specify if Wally and Y/N are biological or adopted siblings, so that part is entirely left up to you and how you want to interpret it.

“Come on Y/N, just come with me. It’ll be fun!” Wally protested, pulling on your arm.

You rolled your eyes and looked up at your older brother, for the last hour he had been trying to convince you to go to a team party with him but all you wanted to do was sit and read the newest book in your favorite series. It had just recently come out and you were more than excited, but of course, Wally had other plans.

“Why can’t you just ask Dick to go with you?” you brushed him off, turning to look at your book once more.

“He already is, but I want to introduce my little sister to the rest of the team. They know literally everything about you but what you look like. You come this one time and I will never ask you again for as long as I live.” He pleaded, dashing over to look at you.

Wally did have a point, the only people you had actually met on the team were Dick, Conner, M’gann, and Artemis considering they were all close friends with Wally. You knew Dick had younger brothers, but you had never met them let alone knew what they looked like. Dick and Wally were the worst when they were together, normally where you found one, nine times out of ten the other was with them causing trouble and giving Bruce and Barry gray hairs.

There was even a space for you on the team, considering the fact that you had similar powers to that of Wally and Barry but the hero life was never for you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help others but Barry was stressed enough with just Wally and Bart; adding you to the mix was an accident waiting to happen. Besides, you were the slowest of them all and didn’t want to hold anyone back. Both Wally and Barry respected your decision, but Bart never stopped bugging you to join.

“Wally, you and I both know that if I go to one, it will turn into every single one, and before I know it one of you has managed to rope me into joining the team.” You closed your book and crossed your arms, “I know the schemes you and Dick come up with, you really think you could pull this one past me?”

Wally gave you a shrug. “Maybe, but please? I want you to meet everyone else.”

After a few more moments of contemplating, you finally let out a sigh and dropped your head. “Fine, I will go to this one! But I swear if you try anything funny, I will punch you into the next century.” You threatened.

“Oh, come on, you and I both know you can’t do that.” Wally teased, poking your forehead only for you to flick his nose. “You aren’t fast enough for it.”

“No, but Barry is.”

Wally seemed to take that threat semi-serious, he got up with a huge smile on his face. “I swear, you will not regret coming to this!” he laughed and sped off to his room to call Dick and let him know that their plan was a go.

It was a couple of hours until the party but Wally spent most of it making sure that you were good to go. He was oddly concerned with what you were wearing, and how your hair looked. It should have raised red flags all over the place, but you brushed it off as Wally just being his over-analytical self.

Before you knew it, the two of you were standing outside the zeta tube in Central City ready to go to Mt. Justice for the party that was being hosted as a celebration for one of the team’s biggest cases completed.

Recognized -Kid Flash B03, -Velocity B032

The two of you didn’t even make it in the cave before Wally was dragged into a hug by his best friend. “You guys made it! Velocity, good to see you.” He grinned and hugged you tightly as well.

“Dick, I don’t go by Velocity you know that.” You chuckled hugging him back.

“If you don’t go by Velocity, then why is it there?” a voice asked from behind him. Conner and M’gann walked up to you with a smile on their face.

You crossed your arms and gave them both a look. “You all know very well why it’s there and not my name.”

Wally and Dick rubbed the back of their necks with a suspicious look on their faces. “We have no idea what you are talking about Y/N, but either way I’m glad you decided to come. There are so many people who want to meet Wally’s famous sister.”

The four of them ushered you further into the cave where there were dozens of people there standing around, talking, and eating the many snacks M’gann had made. Most people were in their civies as well, the few who weren’t wore either glasses or their masks to hide their identity.

Taking a look around, you remembered the last time you were in the cave. It was the day that you got the nickname Velocity, but tried to push it to the back of your mind as Dick and Wally specifically maneuvered you towards the snack table.

“Make yourself at home, we’ll be right back,” Dick said and walked off with Wally right behind him.

“Don’t you move.” Wally threatened and followed his friend before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you alone at the snack table.

It was at this point you regretted coming to the party, your brother and the only people you knew ditched you at the snack table so you did the only thing you could. Gorge yourself on the delectable treats in front of you. Grabbing a plate, you put a little bit of everything that could fit on your plate. Your appetite was quite large, but it was your metabolism trying to keep up with the speeds your body could handle. The only person you had seen eat more than you was Wally; he was like a human garbage disposal.

You were snacking on a cherry tart when you heard someone stand beside you. Looking to your left, you saw a boy with messy black hair and the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen. He was only a bit taller than you and had his arms crossed over his chest with a disheveled look on his face as if he was forced to walk over.

Before he could catch you looking, you quickly turned your head and finished the tart in your hand.

“You should try the apple ones, they’re the best.” He said softly.

Turning to look at him, a small smile spread on your face. “I don’t know, I’m pretty attached to the cherry.”

The boy chuckled and held out his hand. “I’m Tim, Dick is my older brother.”

You took his in your own and shook it. “Y/N, Wally is mine.” you smiled.

“I figured, you’re all he seems to talk about.” Tim smiled, leaning against the table to look at you.

“Oh really? How many embarrassing stories should I be worried that everyone knows about?” you asked, finishing your cherry tart.

Tim laughed at your question. “None so far, all he says is how cool you are and that he is proud of you.”

Hearing those words made you smile more, maybe Wally wasn’t such a terrible big brother. “I’m proud of him too, putting himself out there to help those who can’t protect themselves every day. It’s not easy, and Wally loves it more than anything.” You explained, reaching for an apple tart and taking a bite of it.

“You’re right, these are good.” You smiled.

“I told you.” He grinned. “But you have the same powers, so why don’t you fight with him and the team?” Tim asked, tilting his head as he took a cherry tart off of your plate.

You tried to swat his hand away with a laugh only for him to stay out of reach and take a bite.

“I prefer to stay out of the action, I’m not as fast as Barry, Wally, or Bart. I’d only slow them down, and worry them more, so I’ve taken up an internship with Iris and journalism and help keep people’s noses out of their identities.” You explained, looking around. “But that does not stop them, especially Bart. Every time I see him, he brings out the suit Barry had made for me and makes a big deal about asking every chance he gets.”

Your eye caught sight of Wally and he was talking to Artemis, with Dick at his side. They seemed to be talking in hushed whispers about something and gesturing towards your location but things weren’t adding up. Before you could even voice your concern, or mention it to Tim you saw a blur out of the corner of your eye.

“Speaking of which.” You quickly set your plate down and grabbed Tim’s hand and took off down the hall to get away from Bart. You loved him to death, but this kid had an exuberant amount of energy that rivaled Wally’s and this was the last thing you wanted.

“Y/N!” you heard Bart call from behind you, only making you pick up the pace a little.

You could have run faster to get away from him, but for some reason, you grabbed hold of Tim and drug him along with you. It limited your speed and you felt him tug on your hand.

“Here, this way.” He said and opened a door and quickly shoved the two of you in, quietly shutting it behind you.

The two of you hid in the dark closet, Tim’s ear pressed against the door as he listened for Bart’s steps to fade away. Somehow the two of you had outrun him and hid before he could actually find you. A couple minutes passed before you let out the breath you had been holding.

“Thanks for that.” You smiled, blinking as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. It had only just dawned on you exactly where you were, and how small the room was. “Tim, did you just shove us in a broom closet?”

Tim rubbed the back of his head. “It was the closest place we could hide, I figured from the way you took off that you didn’t want to deal with him asking you questions.” He looked around, before reaching for the door. “I think it’s safe to come out.” He said and pulled on the handle, only for it to not budge.

“Tim, why is the door not opening?” you asked.

“Uh, it’s locked.”

“It’s what?”

“It’s locked.” He repeated.

You ran a hand through your hair and let out a sigh. “How are we locked in here? Does it unlock from the outside only?”

“It seems so, and I don’t have my utility belt or I could totally get us out of here.” He responded and pulled out his phone, using the light to look around. You had left yours with Wally because the outfit you were wearing did not have any pockets.

“I have no service in here either, so it looks like we just have to wait it out.” He sighed and sat on a box, you sitting on one leaned against the opposite wall. The closet was big enough that you were comfortable, but your knees were touching and you were crowded by various items.

“It’s never a dull time with you bats.” You chuckled, leaning your arms on your thighs.

“I could say the same thing about you speedsters.” Tim teased. “Between you, Wally, and Bart, someone is always laughing and having a good time.”

You tilted your head at his comment. “We’ve never met before tonight; how do you know I always make people laugh?”

Tim was thankful for the darkness of the room; you didn’t get to see the slight blush creeping up on his face. “Wally and Bart talk about you all the time, every story they tell has at least one person in tears laughing.”

Your face began to heat up as well, with you tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, life is too short with this occupation. What better way to live it than to make others laugh right?”

Tim laughed softly and looked at you with his blue eyes illuminated by the soft glow coming from his phone. “Yeah, you never know what day will be your last so might as well live it the way you want to, right?”

The tone in his voice seemed to change with those last few words. Tim had known about you for a while and even harbored a slight crush from the pictures Dick would show him of you and Wally. But seeing you in reality, was something different entirely; the way your eyes shone when you talked about your family and running made him fall even harder. Sure, you weren’t a public hero like your brother or uncle, but you were still a speedster and running was in your blood.

Slowly his hand reached over and took yours, keeping his touch light and soft. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you off, or make you think he was some kind of weirdo. But the second you tightened your grip on his hand, his heart fluttered.

“I have to be honest; I did not want to come to this stupid party, and getting locked in a closet was not on my list. But I am glad that it's with you.” You smiled, looking at your entwined hands.

His fingers were long but calloused. It showed the hard work he put into his title of Robin, but no matter how rough they were his touch was soft. He gripped your hand in his and looked at you. You had only met him that night, but there was something that pulled you towards him. Maybe it was the fact that he understood what it was like to have a big brother’s legacy to live up to or the simple fact that he understood that you didn’t want to join the hero scene. Whatever it was, it seemed to pull him towards you as well.

Before you knew it, his face was right in front of yours and you could feel his warm breath fan over your face. One inch closer and your lips would be on his, and your eyes locked with his. Tim’s hand left yours as he cupped your cheek with both hands, threading his fingers through your hair slightly.

The magnetic pull only got stronger as you leaned in closer, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed against yours. His lashes tickled the skin on your cheeks as Tim kissed you fully, leaning into it to feel it closer.

The kiss itself only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back and looked at you, his eyes shining with something you couldn’t decipher.

“You taste like cherry tart.” Tim gave a lopsided grin, savoring the taste of your lips on his own.

“I am definitely glad I am stuck in a closet with you now.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and kissed Tim once more. His hands held your waist as he pulled you onto his lap to bring you closer to his body.

This kiss lasted longer than the first one, but not by much. Before either of you could react, the door to the closet swung open as light flooded into the room. You let out a squeak and jumped off Tim’s lap and landed on the floor with a thud.

Looking up, you saw Dick standing there with his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face. “Having fun, you two?” he teased.

Tim’s face flushed darker as you glared at Dick from your spot on the floor.

“Hey, Wally! I found her!” he called. Within seconds, Wally was next to Dick and peeking into the closet and saw your current position.

“You know, when we planned on setting you two up, we did not mean for you to make out in a dark closet.” He grinned.

“Wally!” you snapped and got up and dove at him quickly, Wally speeding out of the way. It all clicked why they wanted you to come to the party so bad and Wally’s sudden interest in what you wore out of the house. He was trying to set you up with Dick’s little brother.

Knowing that he was in trouble, Wally took off down the hall with you right behind him zooming through the cave as you tried to catch him. The night ended with Wally nursing a large bruise on his shoulder and you and Tim exchanging numbers and planning your first official date of many yet to come.

#Costly Affairs #Tim Drake #Timothy Drake #tim drake fanfic #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake x reader #tim drake x fem!reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #Red Robin #red robin fanfic #red robin fanfiction #red robin x reader #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #DC comics

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chimtaesty · 4 years

Text

broken souls (pjm!hybrid au)

plot :Helping hybrids is your passion, as a local hybrid center calls you for help because of a abused and broken panther hybrid you pack your stuff and hurry to put him back together.

warnings: death, abuse | 4.9k words

a/n: hi there, it’s been a while huh? I’m finally back and better than ever. I released two stories lately which seemed like a fever dream so i won’t continue them but i hope you are ready to keep supporting my stuff :) I hope you like this story since i spent a lot of time and thoughts on it :)

masterlist

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Am i talking to Y/N?”

“Yes you are, who is this?”

“Oh, i’m sorry for not introducing myself, my name is Helen Wallis and I'm the Head of the Hybrid Rehabilitation Center Crystal Snow. I’m calling because we take care of a very delicate case at the moment, the issue is that we don’t know how to take further care of this poor soul and I heard that you are an amazing psychologist student who even helped the Seong-girl out of her cruel thoughts. If you could maybe take your time to take a look at this broken boy we would all be really thankful.”

To be honest, this girl didn’t take a lot of work. She was spoiled and upset because a boy in her school rejected her. The only reason this became a big thing was because the parents are influential people. But you would love to help someone who needed your help so you didn’t have another choice.

“I would gladly take a look at him, if you could send me his file.”

“Oh yes, of course. Thank you a lot Y/N, your help means a lot”

You’ve looked at the same three sheets of paper for the last two hours and you can’t believe what’s printed on it. The sentences make you angry and give you the feeling of having to throw up. He was raised on a local farm which turned out to be an underground fighting ring. He had to take drugs. He was raped and had to watch his mum getting killed, the only person on this planet who he loved. He has lost someone just like you, you may be able to connect with him faster than with Seong Hye-Jin.

The speed of your heart beating decreases as you pack the papers back into your bag. The bus rumbles and your stop arrives faster as you expected it to. The building looks nice, it has a big blue sign on top that says “Crystal Snow Rehabilitation Center”. It’s a short walk across the street to the entrance. As you walk towards the front desk a chubbier in white dressed older lady walks towards you. “You must be Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you. I called you earlier this week” you nod and shake her hand. “Yes, I tried to prepare myself as well as possible, but i’m not sure if he is going to welcome my help. I would say we just give it a try.”

The walk to Jimin’s room is long, there are a lot of doors, hallways and two elevators involved. Before Helen opens the door she turns around and clasps your hands in hers. “I need you to be careful. I couldn’t forgive myself if he hurt you. If something goes south please shout immediately, security is right outside this door. God may bless you” she whispers the last sentence as she turns the key and the door opens. You smile at Helen and take a step in. You never thought much about god or christianity, it’s all a hoax. Where was god when you needed him?

“Please leave the door open until I say otherwise” you whisper towards Helen and she nods. As you take a look inside the tiny room you are reminded of your bedroom at your parents house. It was tiny but cozy, Jimin might feel the same.

There he is, laying on his bed facing the window. “Hi there, Jimin. My name is Y/N, I would like to talk to you. Is that fine with you?” He doesn’t say anything nor does he move. He’s not ignoring you though, he’s listening very well. “Should i leave the door open?” you ask silently and he doesn’t answer, he turns around to look at you. A thing catches your attention immediately, the big scar across his left eye.

He nods and you nod back not saying anything. “Can i sit myself down over there or should I stay here?” you ask again to tear his attention from the open door, this is no time to do something dumb. “Stay” he whispers and you comply, he wants to keep you at a distance. The spot you’re standing at is a great place to oversee everything you do. “Alright, i’ll just sit down right here” you smile, he doesn’t reply.

As you sit there on the floor he grows more comfortable. The door is open and there is no one who pushes him to speak. You lowered yourself to the ground where he is able to look down on you. “So, Jimin. We both know why I’m here. To be quite honest, these people here don’t really care about you. It sounds harsh but that’s the truth. The only thing they are interested in is rehabilitating you and getting you out of here. They want you to move on and live normally but let’s be real for a second, that’s impossible.” His head snaps upwards to look at you.

“Everyone tells you how great life is and how badly you need to move on. The problem is that after all life ever gave you, it’s hard for you to understand that optimism. Life is shit, isn’t it?” you chuckle and he nods. “I didn’t expect you to say that” his raspy voice fills the room.

You chuckle “What? That life’s shit? Well, it’s the truth.” he nods and suddenly his ears move from being stuck flat on his head to standing upwards, ready to listen to you. “You know, Jimin. I understand you. Life hasn’t been kind to me either. I might’ve not lived through something as terrific as you but it comes close. Do you want to hear it?” he nods but still keeps his head low. You know that sharing hurtful experiences can help you connect to each other. You knew almost everything about him. You know what those horrible people did to him and how he became who he is now but he knows nothing about you. He doesn’t know why you are willing to sit on his floor or why the hell the door was kept open

“I had to kill my father” That catches his attention. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you.

“Two men broke into our house one night when I was thirteen. I didn’t know what was happening, I mean it was around three am and i was sleeping. My brother was dead when I arrived in the living room, they had almost decapitated him. My parents were restrained and sat up on our couch.”

I have to breathe for a moment before I can continue. Right in that moment he locked his gaze with me for the first time. We share a quick glance.

“My mum was raped before they slit her throat and I couldn't do anything.I had to stab my dad 28 times. The only thing I remember was them telling me that everything’s my fault. I don’t know what I did nor do I know why my parents had to pay for it. But I moved on. I didn’t forget, not that I ever could forget this massacre but, I try to survive. Nothing can ever bring them back and I know that. I will never see them again and it hurts everytime i close my eyes because I see their lives leaving their bodies when I do but I try to move on. I try to live ”

I wipe my tears and look at the floor as all the pictures come back. The blood, the bones being cracked and the lives being taken-”I’m sorry you had to go through that” he whispers and a small sniff leaves your body. “Thank you, Jimin.” you whisper back and for a moment there’s just silence. It’s comforting and scary at the same time. It’s almost as if he accepts you now, as if he knows what you feel.

“Do i have to tell you?” you shake your head with a small smile. You wouldn’t mind but every time you have to talk about it you literally relive what happened. You don’t want him to feel what you do now “No, you don’t have to if you don’t want to” he nods and sighs, a big weight visually leaving his shoulders. “You can sit on the chair, the floor must be cold” you almost laugh. “I’ll gladly. Thank you, Jimin.” You sit down in front of him and he moves back slightly.

“Jimin” you whisper and his head snaps towards you “Yes?” he whispers back. His eyes softly gaze at yours “I need you to know that you’re not alone. What you had to go through is in no way forgettable and I know that you regret many things but you’re not alone. ” he just stares at you until his eyebrows furrow and his chest starts to move faster and faster. You triggered something, something bad.

“You’re lying” he whispers and his nostrils flare and his eyes stare at the floor. “You’re lying like everyone else.” He almost growls at you as you try to deny what he said. “I’m not, Jimin, listen to me!” you plead and you notice the shift. In front of you is no longer the quiet and understanding person he was two minutes ago . He shifted to what those people made him, a broken, hurt and traumatized boy who’s life is a living hell.

Now that they got him out of there he’s held captive in his mind. The horror he had to experience every day is now tormenting him inside his own head and no one seems to understand that. His eyes grow dark and his body builds itself up and he flashes his teeth in a threatening way. He closes himself off. He’s gone, the soft understanding boy you were just talking to was somewhere crying in a corner of his mind scared of getting attached and being thrown away like garbage.

In a matter of seconds his hands find their way around your throat. He tightens his grip and you find it hard to breathe. Your pleads come out strangled as he lets out a low grunt. This situation reminds you of the night you killed your father. The men strangled you as well while you watched your mum being raped, the only difference here is that Jimin isn’t doing it out of pleasure, he’s terrified to the point where he’s alright with taking another person's life.

The two security men find their way into the room as your legs give in and you two fall to the floor, Jimin didn’t let go though. Your last attempt of staying alive needs to work so you clasp his face in between your hands. You stroke his cheek and give him a small smile. “It’s alright” His eyebrow twitches slightly and in a matter of seconds his grip around your throat loosens and your vision finds its way back to you. You cough violently after you push him behind yourself.

“Miss, please move. We need to move this farrell animal, he’s a threat” you shake your head as you move closer to Jimin “He’s not- cough -that’s why I-cough-I’m here. Pl-cough-Please move outside, thank you-cough.” They share a worried look but do as told and move to their spots outside. Your head hangs low as you try to steady your breathing.

Behind you, you can hear silent but repetitive sorry’s.

You turn around slightly, just to look at him. He now understood what he had done. You can’t blame him for what he did, he was terrified as you somehow triggered something in his brain with your reassurance. “Jimin” you breathe out and his rant of sorry’s stop. “Jimin,this isn’t your fault, okay? I’m not mad at you” You turn towards him and take his hand into yours.

“Do you hear me? I’m not mad at you” he doesn’t look at you as you talk to him. The atmosphere in his room is cold and uncomfortable. His demeanor changed, he feels sorry and you know that. He almost killed you and you’re not upset. It’s something that’s hard to understand, why would someone you hurt still like you? Simple, they are either unconditionally in love with you or know how you feel. They understand the things you went through, the pain you feel, they relate.

“How?” He whispers as his emotions get ahead of him. “I almost killed you, look at your throat” he sniffs and you can’t help but touch it. It’s sore and probably bright red but you don’t really care. “It’s fine” you answer him and he shakes his head “How can that be fine? You were nothing but nice to me and I struck you to the floor to strangle you. If that is fine to you, you’re dumb”

You nod your head “Maybe I am”. You stroke the hair out of your face and get up. “I’ll be leaving now-“It was nice meeting you Y/N, I’m sorry that I hurt you and I understand that you won’t come ba-“Oh, I’m coming back” his head snapped up to look at you. “What?” You chuckled slightly “You can’t get rid of me that easily, we are friends now, Jimin.” He just gives you a star struck expression as you’re almost outside of his room. “I’ll bring you some cake next time”

About a week later you again stand in front of the center. You thought a lot about how you could help Jimin and to be honest, you have no idea. The only thing that somehow connects you two is the trauma. There’s nothing that really connects you, you lived a great life until that night, you always had and always will have the privilege of being a human and not a hybrid. Jimin was born on a farm like an animal, raised like one and treated like one.

In your hands you hold the cake you promised him the last time. You open the door just to be greeted with Helen. She smiles at you and welcomes you with a warm handshake “Y/N, how nice to see. Jimin has been asking for you everyday. He told me what he has done and how you treated him. I’m glad that you didn’t run away, he really needs your help” you nod and smile at her “We had a great start actually, I’m positive that I’m able to help him.” she gives you a comforting smile before she answers you “He’s outside, by the pond” you nod and take your leave to the garden.

The garden is blooming beautifully, a lot of flowers and bushes decorate the garden in a welcoming and soft way. Other hybrids roam around the garden as well. Some play together, some stay alone just like Jimin. He’s sitting on a bench in front of the pond while he stares at the water. You clear your throat as you stand right behind him and he’s fast to turn around.

His face shifts to a soft smile as he sees you. “Y/N!” he exclaims happily. He puts his legs down and makes space for you. You thankfully take the spot next to him. The air is thick between you two and you can pinpoint exactly why. He still feels sorry for what he did and you don’t really know how to approach this matter.

“I brought you the cake I promised” you throw into the silence. He doesn’t look, he doesn’t move at all. “I thought you wouldn’t come again” he says sadly. Your head snaps towards his and your eyes lock. “Why would you think that? I told you i would come back” you give back. He shakes his head and finally glances at the cake “I thought you might’ve changed your mind.” you sigh and hit his shoulder lightly. “I would never break my promise, now try the cake” you give him a fork and let him taste it.

“I didn’t bake it though, I’m terrible in the kitchen” you chuckle and he smiles “That’s fine, it’s delicious” he silently eats the cake and thanks you another two times. “How’s your throat?” he asks quietly. You unconsciously touch your throat. “It’s fine, it’s a little bit red” he nods and shoves another fork of cake into his mouth. Just then you notice a red mark on his right hand. They didn’t hit him, did they?

“Jimin, you need to be completely honest with me right now” his eyes go wide as your face grows angry. “Did they hurt you for what you did to me?” he almost chokes on his cake as you ask him that. “Did they hit you?” you ask again and he hides his hand before he tries to explain himself. “It’s not like i didn’t deserve it.” he stammers. “They are not allowed to do that, Jimin. You should’ve told me right away, I will make sure something like that never happens ever again.” he shakes his head and takes your hand into his. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” You give him an angry look “It is not alright, no one should treat you like that” he smiles slightly and strokes the back of your hand.

“I’m fine” and for a moment you believe him. You forget the red mark on his hand and the scar across his eye. You forget what happened to you and what happened to him. You forget the handprints around your throat. The trees and flowers disappear as well as the pond which seems to drain into oblivion. Nothing else other than the beautiful boy in front of you seems to exist. The way his dark hair almost hides his beautiful eyes which are trying to reassure you. The way his bruised hand gently strokes yours and the way this feeling makes you want to cry. It makes your walls crumble.

“Y/N?” his voice tugs you out of your thoughts. His hand wipes a tear from your face “Why are you crying?” he asks quietly. You can’t talk, it’s like someone took your ability to speak.

“It’s alright, I sometimes cry as well.” He lets go of your hand and suddenly everything comes back. Everything is there again and it’s hard to comprehend. Why did it feel nice?

“I did horrible things, you know. You shouldn’t look at me like that” your eyebrows furrow. “Like what?” he looks up at the sky “Like you love me, my mum used to look at me like that” he gives back and you can’t move. “It’s a look that says that you would give me the universe and more if you could. It’s a look which says that you would love everything about me but you won’t, you can’t. I did things that not a single living creature should do. If you knew what i did, you wouldn’t speak to me ever again. You would look at me the same way as everyone else ever did! “ he almost shouted.

You are taken aback, what is he talking about. “Well, what did you do?” he whips around and stares at you in disbelief. “Did you just completely ignore what i said?” you shake your head and smile at him “Do you think I’m like everyone else? I stabbed my dad almost thirty times, how bad can it be?” his face grows angry and he pushes the cake to the side. “One time I was in the ring I had to kill my opponent. The bloodier it was the better, so I ripped his windpipe from his throat. Another time I broke someone's neck just to get fed. Do you even know what it feels to get praised for taking someone's life?”

Without thinking you get closer, your noses almost touched as you did. “Yes, I do know what it feels like to get praised for taking someone’s life. They praised me the whole night for killing my father and later made me bury his corpse while my raped mother had to watch all of it. After i complied with them they slit her throat and left me laying in my mother’s blood while i wanted to die. The last thing they said before leaving me was “That’s what good girls do”, so don’t tell me i don’t know what it feels like. I know how people look at someone who had to survive something like this, I know it damn well.”

For a few seconds you two just stare at each other with wide and teary eyes. The mood is tense. The only thing you can hear is Jimin’s heavy breathing and you trying to not breathe at all. A tear leaves his eye and all of a sudden his lips find their way onto yours. You can’t grasp what is happening, your lips move by themselves. Your hand finds its way onto his cheek and he grabs the back of your neck caressingly. Never has a kiss felt like this, like the whole earth could explode and you wouldn’t care as long as you were kissing him.

But the thought of you two getting caught struck your mind and you stopped.

“W-why, did you stop?” his voice was a faint whisper. He knows why but he still feels the need to ask. “It felt good,” he continues. “We can’t be seen, Jimin” his face falls and he shakes his head “I don’t care” he whispers as you get up. “But i do, if they get a whiff of what just happened i won’t be allowed to meet you anymore.” you gather your stuff as he suddenly grabs your hand to stop you “I want you to adopt me” he almost shouts. You halt in your actions while your eyes widen.

“I realised that there is no person other than you who really cares about me. There’s no one who understands what I’ve been through. Not a single person can relate to what my life has been like. When I’m with you it feels like the whole universe disappears and there’s only you, you pull me out of those cruel thoughts, you take the pain away Y/N. Please adopt me” you can’t move. That’s not how you expected this whole thing to go. Of course you like him, there’s a connection and even feelings you can’t name but, it’s wrong. The way he sees it is wrong.

He sees a saviour who might rescue him from the life he used to live. To be honest, you’re ready to be that, his saviour, but is it the right thing to do, or to be? “Why aren’t you saying anything? Am i not good enough? Do you want me to change? I can-”No, Jimin. I-I don’t really know if that is how you really feel-”Of course that is what i really feel like, i need you Y/N” he shouts.

You step back with a small yelp escaping your mouth. His eyes soften “I’m sorry, i didn’t want to yell at you” All of sudden two men rush across the garden just to push you away from him “Stop! You’re hurting her” he shouts as you harshly fall on your butt. This is his mother’s death all over. He wasn’t able to get to her and now he’s being held back while they push you around. They grab Jimin and try to get him going but he’s too focused to get to you “Y/N!” he screams and you are fast to get up “Sir, please let go”you shout, much to your displeasure he just blows you off. They push him to the floor getting him ready to be sedated. Jimin doesn’t comply, the only thing he does is shout your name.

You throw yourself to the floor to look into his eyes. His eyes are wide and his face wet from crying “Please, Y/N don’t leave me. I can’t live without you, god please.” he pleads between broken cries. “Jimin, hey, listen to me. i’m right here! I won’t leave you” he cries and cries as he slowly drifts into a deep slumber “I need you” he whispers before he’s completely knocked out.

You once again look at the man in front of you. Is it wrong to love someone you just met? You are no psychiatrist, you have nothing to lose, do you? The only thing you desire more than helping him out of the dark space he’s in, is hold him in your arms. To wipe his tears and tell him that everything will be fine.

You thought a lot about him and his pleading about adoption. He would fit, no doubt. You two share one soul. The apartment you live in is hybrid friendly and there’s enough space. Yesterday you got a call from the center asking you to come in and meet Jimin again since his condition has worsened. He hasn’t eaten properly for almost a week, he doesn’t speak or move from his bed and refuses to look at anyone other than you.

You once again stand in front of the center unsure why you are here. Are you here to end something that never happened or continue something that has potential? You don’t know. But deep down you already know the answer

Helen waits for you at the front desk. She eagerly drags you along the long way to Jimin’s room. You remember the corridors and the two elevators as if you’ve walked those corridors a million times just to get to him. She doesn’t speak since she told you everything on the phone, she just escorts you to his room.

The door opens with the jingle of the keys and your heart breaks as you look inside. He’s curled up on his bed holding the fork you brought with you last week. He looks at it as if it’s a picture, telling him a story.

“Jimin” you whisper. His head moves slightly, needing to reassure what he was hearing. “Jimin, it’s me” you say once again.

He puts himself up on his feet and looks at you. His face seems thinner and his face is puffy from crying. You don’t know how someone could hurt him, how someone could force him to do things he didn’t want to or how someone could kill the one person who loved him. How someone could take everything he had, he ever was. You can’t understand it. You would give him everything. You would give your life for him if you could.

“Y/N” he breathes out. His eyes close and a small smile forms on his face. “I thought I’ll never see you again,” he says. Your body moves on its own as you walk towards him. You almost throw yourself into his arms. “I thought you left me” he chokes out.

“I’ll stay by your side as long as you need me, I told you that before. Don’t you ever think that I’ll leave you” you whispered into his chest. The comforting smell of his sweater grazes your nose. His tail wrapping around your legs in a comforting manner.

“What makes you think that I’m worth your love?” he whispers back and you can’t help but hold him tighter as your eyebrows furrow. “I’ll love you because you can’t love yourself, that’s fine with me.” Tears form in your eyes as his soften.

He sighs and strokes your back “Then please never leave me” he mumbles and you nod your head. “You won’t ever have to be alone, Park Jimin” he smiles and strokes your back as you look at him. “I’ll never leave you. I thought about it and I think it’s the best to have you by my side, I would like to adopt you” you smile. His breath stops for a moment as you finish your sentence.

His legs give in and you both rush to the floor. The dark strands of hair fall into his face and his sobs fill the room and you hug him tight. “You’ll have a home, a place where no one can hurt you. A place for you and me” he nods and you smile back at him

“I never thought that I'd ever escape this. I thought I’ll have to live like this, locked away like a mad person. Alone with my thoughts and what happened to me. But the second you came into my room I knew. I knew that all of this is going to change. That I’ll escape” you nod at him. “The moment I read about what happened to you, I knew that I would do everything I could to save you. I’ll give you the peace you deserve, I’ll love you until death does us apart, Park Jimin”

a/n: i hope you liked it, stop by at my masterlist for more works of mine.

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sparkleofpizza · 4 years

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The archer - Tim Drake x reader 1/?

Hey guys, how are you doing? I have been working on this story for a while now and decided to finally post it, I am currently still writing the next parts because I decided to change a few ideas I had previously, but this is mainly just me giving Tim Drake some love and incorporating a bit of my love for Arrow too. Hope you guys like it and feel free to request me anything if you'd like, I write for the batboys, Wally and Conner.

Requested: no

Warnings: some swearing

Summary: Y/n Queen will be living in the Wayne Manor for a while, and Dick Grayson decided to be the Cupid between her and his little brother Tim Drake.

Word count: 2.228

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

The Wayne manor was silent that day, Bruce had everyone prepared for the arrival of a guest. The four boys were pissed off as why they had to make sure their rooms were organized, it was not like the guest would sleep in there. Dick and Jason didn't even live there anymore, but they gave up on arguing after one pointed look from Alfred.

When the doorbell finally rung, the boys were all too busy playing around in the cave - somewhere they found out they would have privacy, after all there was no way the guest would get there. So they weren’t there to greet you as you found your way around the house, after being greeted by Bruce and Alfred, letting them take your bags to the room you’d be staying at and showing you around.

You ended up standing in front of the clock, you knew pretty well what that clock meant, your brother had told you about that. You had a vague idea that the boys would be there - you really wanted to meet all of them - but didn’t want to intrude, this wasn’t your house after all and Bruce was already being nice enough to let you stay over while your brother was away in some business. So you went back to your room, deciding to meet them when was the right time.

And it actually didn’t take long for you to run into one of them. You collided with a huge body, making you land in your butt as you looked up to see none other than Jason Todd. He started down at you.

“Who are you?” He asked, frowning "Are you the guest Bruce told us about?"

“Hello to you too, Jason.” You rolled your eyes at the boys antics, pushing yourself up “It’s nice to see you again.”

He started at you for a few seconds before realization drowned on him. You are Y/N Queen, Oliver’s young sister and Roy’s ‘sister’ as well. He hasn’t seen you such a long time he almost didn’t recognize you.

“Y/N?!” He questioned, too surprised, patting your shoulder “Oh, it’s good to see you again. You look so different from the last time I saw you.”

“That’s because the last time you saw me I was sixteen.” You smirked up at him “Which means you’re getting a bit old.”

He narrowed his eyes at you “You’re like eighteen now or something?”

“Nineteen, actually.”

He nodded, leading you downstairs to the kitchen “Well, you’re still underage so you still have to respect me and do what I say.”

“When have I ever done something people tell me to do? I literally went after a serial killer on my own when I was fifteen just because Ollie told me to stay out of it.”

Jason nodded his head, remembering Roy complaining about something like that. He didn’t pay much attention at the story at the time because he thought it was boring and he had better things to think of, such as his revenge on Bruce, but now it seemed amusing a small girl like you trying something like that. He made a mental note to ask you more details about it later.

“I hope none of you are doing anything imprudent, we have a visitor and that would be really bad looking for you all.” Jason exclaimed, entering the kitchen with you by his side

His three brothers were sitting on the counter, fighting over the last cookie Alfred had made earlier. Their heads shot up in curiosity trying to find out who was there with their brother. Hoping it wouldn't be the mysterious guest.

You stood still, pushing some hair from your face and offering them a friendly smile. Oliver has told you about them, even Roy filled you in on who they were, you’ve seen pictures of them, after all they were Bruce’s Wayne kids, but damn, you didn’t expect them to be this good looking in person.

“Todd, who’s this?” A small boy questioned, holding up a knife to point at you

You chuckled at that “I’m y/n, it’s really nice to meet you. Maybe you should let go of that knife, kids shouldn’t hold things that can hurt them.”

“I’m not a kid!” He yelled

His brothers laughed at his face, Tim already taking a liking into you. If you got to bother Damian in less than five minutes into conversation than you were cool. Dick though you were funny and Jason smiled proudly just because he knew you before everyone else.

“This are my brothers, Dick, Tim and Damian.” Jason introduced them to you

You smiled once again, taking a sit across from where they were.

“So...” Dick started “Y/n, when did you and Jason get together?”

“What? You think we’re dating?” You almost gagged, taking a look at the boy beside you. From all the stories you heard about him from Roy, you were 110% sure that you’d never be able to feel something more for him “We’re not together.” You chuckled at the end

Jason narrowed his eyes “Y/n is the guest Bruce told us about, but hold on a second... Why did you sound so disgusted?”

“Because anyone would be disgusted if someone thought they were dating you, Todd.” Damian rolled his eyes, earning a few laughs from his brother and you, and a death glare from Jason

“Roy just tells me so much shit about you, and you guys are glued. It would be like dating Roy, totally weird.”

“Oh, you’re friends with Roy?” Tim asked, leaning in a bit, curious about how much you knew about them all

You smiled directly at him, flipping some hair from your face. He stared at you for a while, mouth slightly open before quickly shutting it close. You were so pretty and what a perfect smile you have.

“Yeah, I’ve known him almost my whole life.” You replied, frowning a bit, thinking back into old memories of when things went down hill, but quickly smiled again at boy in front of you “So I know plenty about all of you.”

That gave him the answer he needed. You knew about their nightly activities, which was better than having to lie all the time. Not like he was expecting to have you around all the time, you were just staying for a while. But he wouldn’t mind staring at your gorgeous e/c eyes, and pretty conquer smile.

Dick’s eyes went wide, looking at his brother and than at you. An idea already popping on his mind, if you weren’t dating Jason, maybe that meant you weren’t dating anyone, since you stated you also weren’t dating Roy. Big chances of you being single. Watching you and Tim interact made him want to play match maker, oh he was desperate to play match maker.

“How old are you, y/n?” He blurted out loudly

“I’m nineteen, why?”

“Oh! Nothing! Just curiosity. Did you know Tim is twenty-one? Only two years older than you! Funny, right?”

You nodded, biting your lower lip to prevent yourself from laughing. Dick didn’t know how to be discreet.

It had been a couple of days since you’ve been at the manor and you noticed a couple of things:

1. Damian was a very hard person to socialize with, he was very judging and didn’t seem to enjoy your presence at all.

2. Jason was everything Roy told you about him, and that was kind of creepy.

3. Dick was definitely trying to play cupid, asking you random questions out of the blue and then stating facts about Tim.

4. Tim had a very weird sleeping pattern, was coffee addicted and the nicest to talk out of the four of them.

You tried to live your days as normally as possible, but nothing normal is really normal in this family. You thought it was ok their vigilant routine, your brother was one as well, but weren’t they extreme sometimes?! No wonder Oliver said Bruce was uptight. They show zero emotions.

You tried not to get in their way, not really bothering them when they were busy with patrol and cases. You figured your time of the day should be during the night, when the would be out of the manor and on the streets fighting crime.

Going down to the kitchen to get some coffee, maybe something to eat and then you could silently laugh while watching Brooklyn 99. What you didn’t expect was to run into Tim during that.

He was pouring down coffee on his mug when you appeared on the doorway. He glanced up, smiling once he saw you.

“Did I wake you up?” He questioned, leaning down on the counter

“No.” You shook your head, smiling back at him “I came to get some coffee. Shouldn't you be on patrol?"

"It is my day off." Tim replied, watching you as he took a sip of his coffee

"So then... Can't sleep?"

“I normally don’t sleep. What about you?”

You arched your brows at that, pouring some hot coffee in a mug for you. Who normally doesn’t sleep?

“Just wanted to watch some Netflix in the quite of the night.” You shrugged “What do you normally do since you don’t sleep?”

"I just work on some cases."

That seemed unlikely. How could someone stay up all night just working on some cases? He certainly did other things, maybe he had a secret girlfriend and he would sneak her into his room at night and that's just what he told everyone he was doing? Working on some cases.

"But you do that all night? I doubt it's healthy. Don't you like have a secret girlfriend you're sneaking in and you just don't want anyone to find out about?"

Tim laughed at your statement, shaking his head.

"I don't have any secret girlfriend or a real girlfriend for the matter. I like working at night. You could help me sometime, if you'd like?" A dust pink took over his cheeks, maybe he crossed the line by asking you join him in his room in the middle of the night, but you smiled at him

"I'd love to help you on some cases. Shall we start now?"

He nodded, grabbing your hand and pulling you in towards his room. You smiled at the touch of your palms, his hand was way bigger than yours, but you liked how it felt against your skin. His fingers were cold. You could get used to holding hands with him, it felt nice.

You entered his room, looking at the place around you and seeing how it had so much of him in it. It smelled like coffee and his cologne, a nice combination. He closed the door behind you, leading you to his desk.

"So, what do you want me to help you with?" You questioned, leaning on the desk and staring at him

He took a moment to admire you. Your face free of makeup, some natural redness on the skin that made you look cute, your hair down on your shoulders, and your comfy pijamas.

"Have you ever worked on a case before?" You nodded, making him look at you with surprise. You smirked before he kept on talking "I'm trying to track down some of these weapon buyers, there's supposed to be a sale soon, but I can't point out the location yet."

"What are our leads?"

Tim smiled, showing you all the evidence he got before splitting up the job and the both of you starting to work. You sat on his bed with a laptop and he sat beside you with his own. Both clicking at the keyboard, trying to find new clues to find out the place of the weapon sale before it's too late.

At some point of the night, you had decided to take a small break. Laying on your side, looking at Tim while he worked and holding a small conversation with him. But then you were too quiet and when he looked at you again, you had fallen asleep, holding on his shirt sleeve.

He closed his laptop, carefully placing it on his night stand, trying not to disrupt you, and lied down himself. He tried to put some distance between your bodies, but you shifted only getting closer to him once you missed his body warmth, and he found himself trapped when you plopped a leg over his thighs. His cheeks turned red and he was really glad you were asleep so you wouldn't be able to see how flustered he was right now.

Eventually, during the night, Tim wrapped his arms around you as your head was placed on top of his chest. And that's how Alfred found the both of you in the morning, having checked your room to wake you up for breakfast and being frighted to find an empty bed.

"What you're staring at, Alfred?" Dick asked, waking past him on the hallway only to squeaky like a little kid once he saw you two asleep holding each other "I knew it! I knew they'd end up together!"

He grabbed his phone, snapping a couple of pictures before being rushed out of there by Alfred. Tim deserved some sleep, and the both of you looked too adorable together to be disturbed like that.

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sepublic · 4 years

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Halloween Special: The Shut-In!

So, this episode is SUPPOSED to be canon, I believe? Or the idea is that within the episode itself, the events take place after the Plantars return to Wartwood, but otherwise it isn’t canon? I’m not sure, I’ll have to go check. Either way…

This was a REALLY fun, and surprisingly freaky episode, especially towards the end! I love the darker, pragmatic take on Halloween for Amphibia, and how the holiday is interpreted in this world as more of a doomsday preparation sort of thing, this show’s worldbuilding is always so fun. Let me tell you, I lost my mind when I saw human Sprig, Polly, Maddie, and Toadie! Is the implication that Toadie is actually, like, around the kids’ ages this entire time? That makes people shipping him and Mayor Toadstool, uh… VERY, er… But at the same time, I can see why everyone thought he was an adult- So an honest mistake and thus no harm done! And come to think of it, Polly seems to be about the same age as Sprig here. So, the ages may not necessarily match… But then come to think of it, it IS weird that the writers/animators chose to give Toadie a humansona, and not say, Ivy! Actually, Toadie is rather minor and feels oddly specific considering who else was excluded, so I have to wonder if there was some particular reason for this, of if the writers just felt like it?

Anyhow, the humanized versions of our frog friends are adorable, Sprig and Polly are gingers, no surprise there, and the bucket over Polly’s foot is so cute! I love how Anne didn’t even TRY to change who she was, she legit just tied up her hair and that’s it. Her story was a fun premise, and I expected the video to actually be a jumpscare that pulls in its victims at the last moment. And I mean, sort of? It definitely takes a while for that Video Cat demon thing to arrive… But I loved Anne in this bit, how she’s so smug and proud of herself and really doesn’t want to care what others say about her skills, you go girl! You go write dialogue! And I just realized, but this is possibly the closest look we have to Anne’s actual home and bedroom, assuming things haven’t been changed up all that much in the ‘bootleg’ translation… So F-Annes, analyze!

That Video Cat being unable to take criticism and literally dying to it is a mood. Also, either its eggs ARE boba, and/or they just taste like it… Either way, keep in mind that Molly legit took a huge bite out of one. Then again, more feral things have happened in Amphibia and ESPECIALLY with Polly, so I guess I’m not too shocked- Look at Anne, she wanted to eat that monster crab that almost killed Sylvia way back when! Are those cats invincible because they’re bound to no videos, or are they subject to regular criticism in general… Can they also be physically killed as well?

WHY am I even asking, when we know this isn’t canon whatsoever and is never going to come up again!? Anne insists that this happened to her phone specifically, so I guess the gag is that the phone had a previous owner named Anna, etc…. Still, while it’s funny how Anne just gets away with completely making up a story, I do have to wonder if it’s like. Allegorical to a real-life experience. Probably not, given the presence of humanized Sprig, Polly, Maddie, and Toadie… Unless Anne is recounting something that happened in Amphibia, but then Sprig and Polly would’ve recognized what Anne is alluding to, given how they remembered those other past adventures (which was a hilarious gag that I felt nostalgic to recognize). I’m probably just overthinking it.

Then, we’ve got Hop Pop’s story! He had LUSCIOUS locks, and he met the Grim Reaper- Again, allegedly. Not gonna lie I assumed that dude was Frog Lucifer or something, but this is kind of better? Either way that was pretty dark, and I love the implication that the Grim Reaper legit went out of his way to steal some rando’s hair. Poor Hop Pop, he never got his hair back! Are we going to call this canon? Does this confirm the presence of a Frog Grim Reaper?

(Side-note, I feel bad for Wally! Imagine being born on a day where everyone has to be holed up lest they turn into Were-Amphibians! That must’ve been quite the scandal for the Ribbiton family, I have to wonder if this influenced his decision to go out and live his own life with how lonely Wally was…)

Then we have Sprig’s story! I’m so happy to see Ivy again, I never realized how much I missed her and her adorable design, and her hair is so cute! Kind of reminds me of Anne with how wild it is, I want to see a one-shot of Anne bonding with Ivy over their messy hair now. I really appreciate that gag of Sprig realizing what Ivy’s about to say, about how everyone has knitting needles, and Ivy breaking down that door without remorse. This story was my favorite, not just for the comedy, but also…

DANG, that was legitimately terrifying?!When I saw those slimy frog skins, knowing those were actual people, with Hop Pop even suggesting one of them could’ve been Gary… and YIKES, what happens to the flayed bodies?!? Legit I freaked out when I saw the Seamstress, this was straight-up Leather Face, the show wasn’t even trying to be subtleor dodge around it, those were actual people skins! This was some Wartwood Chainsaw Massacre…! Seeing all of those hanging skins and faces gave me the heebie-jeebies, I didn’t expect the show to go THIS far, and while I’m impressed and glad it managed to freak me out, still! That build up to the reveal of Ivy literally ripping off that ‘face’, us seeing a glimpse of the Seamstress before her skins fall off, and it looks like she lacks any skin entirely, and that’s why she wears others’!

Only, she DOES have skin, it’s just clear- Fun fact, I watched this with my brother and he immediately recognized the Seamstress as a Glass Frog, by name, before Sprig did! I think it was a neat gag how for Sprig, he immediately calms down because for Amphibians, Glass Frogs are a somewhat normal and non-supernatural facet of life, relatively speaking. For us humans, well, it reminds me of this one myth about a woman whose head can rise from her body, unveiling her organs…

I THOUGHT the episode was going to go the sweet route, even as I joked that the Seamstress still, y’know, KILLED people. And like Apothecary Gary, the show remembered this and we legit had the Seamstress burn to death in a classic horror movie finale, and I yelled when she made one last stand to grab Ivy by the leg and bite her! I get that there’s meant to be an allegory between Ivy not appreciating her own hair, and the Seamstress not appreciating her own skin, body positivity and all that- But mostly I was too freaked out to appreciate it. Ivy waddling around blindly in present-time was adorable, though.

And, Polly! I LOVE the sort of lesson, the realization that her being gone was scarier than ANY story they’d heard that night (probably because this was real, at least I assume the other stories were fake but regardless). We get our twist of Polly turning into a Were-Tadpole, and then anticlimactically reacting while the others lose their minds as noises of ruckus are heard, implying that Polly immediately went feral afterwards, or the others just made a mess as they freaked out! Also, love the twist on the ending credits, that’s delightfully morbid…

All in all, this was a great episode! Surprisingly scary, and definitely hilarious- It’s a much-needed break from this Amphibia hiatus, especially now that I’m also dealing with the hiatus for The Owl House and Infinity Train (the latter of whom may be permanent PLEASE watch the show on HBO Max), and Kipo’s ending. I do have Carmen Sandiego’s third season to watch, though. I wonder if there’s any speculation to be gleaned from the Blue Moon turning people into monsters, and how that can connect to Blue Energy for the Calamity Box relating to the virtue of Heart. Does the Blue Moon turn people into a monstrous form that reflects the darker sides/fears of their heart? I’m probably overthinking it. Either way, I’m really glad we got a classic Holiday Episode for this show- I always love those, ESPECIALLY Halloween ones!

#amphibia #halloween #amphibia anne #anne boonchuy #amphibia hop pop #hopediah plantar #amphibia sprig #sprig plantar #amphibia polly #polly plantar #amphibia ivy

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kiridune · 3 years

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On Hallowed Ground

Sat, Sep. 07, 2002 Miami Herald

By DAVE BARRY (http://davebarry.com/misccol/hallowedground.htm)

On a humid July day in Pennsylvania, hundreds of tourists, as millions have before them, are drifting among the simple gravestones and timeworn monuments of the national cemetery at Gettysburg.

Several thousand soldiers are buried here. A few graves are decorated with flowers, suggesting some of the dead have relatives who still come here. There's a sign at the entrance, reminding people that this is a cemetery. It says: "SILENCE AND RESPECT."

Most of the tourists are being reasonably respectful, for tourists, although many, apparently without noticing, walk on the graves, stand on the bones of the soldiers. Hardly anybody is silent. Perky tour guides are telling well-practiced stories and jokes; parents are yelling at children; children are yelling at each other. A tour group of maybe two dozen teen-agers are paying zero attention to anything but each other, flirting, laughing, wrapped in the happy self-absorbed obliviousness of Teen-agerLand.

A few yards away, gazing somberly toward the teen-agers, is a bust of Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln gave his Gettysburg Address here 139 years ago, when the gentle rolling landscape, now green and manicured, was still raw and battle-scarred, the earth recently soaked with the blood of the 8,000 who died, and the tens of thousands more who were wounded, when two armies, 160,000 men, fought a terrible battle on July 1, 2 and 3 that determined the outcome of the Civil War.

Nobody planned for the battle to happen here. Neither army set out for Gettysburg. But this is where it happened. This is where, out of randomness, out of chance, a thousand variables conspired to bring the two mighty armies together. And so this quiet little town, because it happened to be here, became historic, significant, a symbol, its identity indelibly defined by this one overwhelming event. This is where these soldiers - soldiers from Minnesota, soldiers from Kentucky, soldiers who had never heard of Gettysburg before they came here to die - will lie forever.

This is hallowed ground.

On the same July day, a few hours' drive to the west, near the small Pennsylvania town of Shanksville, Wally Miller, coroner of Somerset County, Pa., walks slowly through the tall grass covering a quiet field, to a place near the edge, just before some woods.

This is the place where, on Sept. 11, 2001, United Airlines Flight 93, scene of a desperate airborne battle pitting passengers and crew against terrorist hijackers, came hurtling out of the sky, turning upside down and slamming into the earth at more than 500 mph.

That horrendous event transformed this quiet field into a smoking, reeking hell, a nightmare landscape of jet fuel, burning plane debris, scattered human remains.

Now, 10 months later, the field is green again. Peaceful and green.

Except where Flight 93 plunged into the ground. That one place is still barren dirt. That one place has not healed.

"Interesting that the grass won't grow right here," says Miller.

Nobody on Flight 93 was heading for Somerset County that day. The 33 passengers and seven crew were heading from Newark, N.J., to San Francisco. The four hijackers had a different destination in mind, probably Washington, D.C., possibly the White House.

Nobody on the plane meant to come here.

"I doubt that any one of them would ever set foot in Somerset County, except maybe to stop at Howard Johnson's on the turnpike," Miller says. "They have no roots here."

But this is where they are. And this is where they will stay.

No bodies were recovered here, at least not as we normally think of bodies. In the cataclysmic violence of the crash, the people on Flight 93 literally disintegrated. Searchers found fragments of bones, small pieces of flesh, a hand. But no bodies.

In the grisly accounting of a jetliner crash, it comes down to pounds: The people on Flight 93 weighed a total of about 7,500 pounds. Miller supervised an intensive effort to gather their remains, some flung hundreds of yards. In the end, just 600 pounds of remains were collected; of these, 250 pounds could be identified by DNA testing and returned to the families of the passengers and crew.

Forty families, wanting to bury their loved ones. Two hundred fifty pounds of identifiable remains.

"There were people who were getting a skull cap and a tooth in the casket," Miller says. "That was their loved ones."

The rest of the remains, the vast majority, will stay here forever, in this ground.

"For all intents and purposes, they're buried here," Miller says. "This is a cemetery."

This is also hallowed ground.

In the Gettysburg Address, Lincoln was essentially trying to answer a question. The question was: How do you honor your heroes? Lincoln's answer was: You can't. No speech you give, no monument you erect, will be worthy of them, of their sacrifice. The best you can do is remember the cause they died for, finish the job they started.

Of course the passengers and crew on Flight 93, when they set out from Newark that morning, had no cause in common. They were people on a plane bound from Newark to San Francisco. Some were going home, some traveling on business, some on vacation.

People on a plane.

Which makes it all the more astonishing, what they did.

You've been on planes. Think how it feels, especially on a morning cross-country flight. You got up early; you're tired; you've been buckled in your seat for a couple of hours, with hours more to go. You're reading, or maybe dozing. You're essentially cargo: There's nowhere you can go, nothing you can do, no role you could possibly play in flying this huge, complex machine. You retreat into your passenger cocoon, passive, trusting your fate to the hands of others, confident that they'll get you down safe, because they always do.

Now imagine what that awful morning was like for the people on Flight 93. Imagine being ripped from your safe little cocoon, discovering that the plane was now controlled by killers, that your life was in their bloody hands. Imagine knowing that there was nobody to help you, except you, and the people, mostly strangers, around you.

Imagine that, and ask yourself: What would you do? Could you do anything? Could you overcome the fear clenching your stomach, the cold, paralyzing terror?

The people on Flight 93 did. With hijackers in control of the plane, with the captain and first officer most likely dead, the people on this plane got on their cell phones, and the plane's Airfones. They reached people on the ground, explained what was happening to them. They expressed their love. They said goodbye.

But they did not give up. As they were saying goodbye, they were gathering information. They learned about the World Trade Center towers. They understood that Flight 93 was on a suicide mission. They figured out what their options were.

Then they organized.

Then they fought back.

In "Among the Heroes," a riveting book about Flight 93, New York Times reporter Jere Longman reports many of the last words spoken to loved ones on the ground by people on the plane. They're not the words of people in shock, people resigned to whatever fate awaits them. They're the words of people planning an attack. Fighters.

Here, for example, are the last words of passenger Honor Elizabeth Wainio to her stepmother: "They're getting ready to break into the cockpit. I have to go. I love you. Goodbye."

Here are flight attendant Sandy Bradshaw's last words to her husband: "We're going to throw water on them and try to take the airplane back over. Phil, everyone's running to first class. I've got to go. Bye."

And of course there are the now-famous words of Todd Beamer, who, after explaining the situation on the plane to an Airfone supervisor in Illinois, turned to somebody near him and said: "You ready? OK, let's roll."

They're getting ready to break into the cockpit.

I've got to go.

Let's roll.

We'll never know exactly what happened next. Some believe that the fighters managed to get into the cockpit, and that, in the ensuing struggle for control, the plane went down. Others believe that the hijackers, trying to knock the fighters off their feet, flew the plane erratically, and in doing so lost control. Inevitably, there is Internet-fueled speculation that the plane was secretly shot down by the U.S. government. (The government denies this.)

But whatever happened, we know two things for sure:

We know that the plane went down before it reached its target - that the hijackers failed to strike a national symbol, a populated area. They failed.

And we know that the people on the plane fought back. On a random day, on a random flight, they found themselves - unwarned, unprepared, unarmed - on the front lines of a vicious new kind of war. And somehow, in the few confusing and terrifying minutes they had, they transformed themselves from people on a plane into soldiers, and they fought back. And that made them heroes, immediately and forever, to a wounded, angry nation, a nation that desperately wanted to fight back.

And now these heroes lie here, in this field where their battle ended. This cemetery. This battlefield. This hallowed ground.

Wally Miller, coroner, has walked this ground hundreds of times. He spent endless hours among those collecting human remains and picking up plane parts. Even now, he walks with his eyes down, looking, looking. Every now and then he reaches down and picks up a tiny piece of plane - a thimble-sized piece of twisted gray metal, a bit of charred plastic, a shard of circuit board, a wire. This is what Flight 93 became: millions of tiny pieces, a vast puzzle that can never be reassembled. Despite the cleanup effort, there are still thousands of plane parts scattered for acres around the crash site, just under the new plant growth, reminders of what happened here.

The site is peaceful; no sound but birds. Miller walks from the bright field into the hemlock woods just beyond the barren spot where Flight 93 slammed into the earth. It's mid-afternoon, but the woods are in permanent dusk, the tall trees allowing only a dim, gloomy light to filter down to the lush green ferns that blanket the ground. The woods look undisturbed, except for bright "X"s painted on the trunks of dozens of hemlocks. The "X"s mark the trees that were scaled by climbers retrieving human remains, flung high and deep into woods by the force of the crash.

Some of the hemlocks, damaged by debris and fire and jet fuel, had to be cut down. These trees were supposed to be trucked away, but Miller, who, as coroner, still controls the crash site, would not allow it. Some of the trees have been ground into mulch; some lie in piles of logs and branches. But they're all still here. Miller won't let them be removed.

"This is a cemetery," he says, again. And he is determined that it will be respected as a cemetery. All of it. Even the trees.

Almost immediately after the battle of Gettysburg, people started coming to see the place where history happened. More than a century later, they're coming still.

Some are pilgrims: For them, Gettysburg is a solemn place, where the suffering and sacrifice of the soldiers still hangs heavy in the air. Some are purely tourists: For them, Gettysburg is another attraction to visit, like the Grand Canyon, or Graceland - famous, but not particularly relevant to their everyday lives. You park, you look, you take a picture, you leave.

I think that most of the visitors to Gettysburg, even today, are some mixture of pilgrim and tourist. But as the battle has receded in time, as the scars of the war have healed, tourism clearly has come to dominate the mixture. Despite the valiant efforts of many to preserve the soul of this place, to explain to the waist-pack hordes why this ground is hallowed, Gettysburg, surrounded by motels and gift shoppes, accessorized by a wax museum and a miniature-golf course, is now much more a tourist attraction than a shrine.

But soldiers are still buried here. And people still come to place flowers on graves. And the sign at the entrance to the cemetery still makes its plea: SILENCE AND RESPECT.

Immediately after Sept. 11, people started coming to see where Flight 93 went down. The site is a little tricky to find, but they found it, and they're coming still, every day, a steady stream of people who want to be near this place. They're not allowed on the site itself, which is fenced off and guarded, so they go to the temporary memorial that has been set up by the side of a two-lane rural road overlooking the crash site, a quarter-mile away.

The memorial - the word seems grandiose, when you see it - is a gravel parking area, two portable toilets, two flagpoles and a fence. The fence was erected to give people a place to hang things. Many visitors leave behind something - a cross, a hat, a medal, a patch, a T-shirt, an angel, a toy airplane, a plaque - symbols, tokens, gifts for the heroes in the ground. There are messages for the heroes, too, thousands of letters, notes, graffiti scrawls, expressing sorrow, and love, and anger, and, most often, gratitude, sometimes in yearbookish prose:

"Thanx 4 everything to the heroes of Flight 93!!"

Visitors read the messages, look at the stuff on the fence, take pictures. But mostly they stare silently across the field, toward the place where Flight 93 went down. They look like people you see at Gettysburg, staring down the sloping field where Pickett's charge was stopped, and the tide of war changed, in a few minutes of unthinkable carnage. There is nothing, really, to see on either field now, but you find it hard to pull your eyes away, knowing, imagining, what happened there.

There will be a permanent memorial for Flight 93. The temporary one is touching in its way, a heartfelt and spontaneous tribute to the heroes. But it's also haphazard, verging on tacky. Everyone agrees that something more dignified is needed. The official wheels are already turning: Congress has begun considering a bill to place the site in federal custody. Eventually land will be acquired; a commission will be appointed; a design will be approved.

Wally Miller frets about the memorial. He worries that, in the push to commemorate this as The Defining Moment In The War Against Terrorism, people will forget that it was also - maybe primarily - a personal tragedy for 40 families. He believes that, whatever is done at the site, there should be a place set aide for the Flight 93 families to grieve in private, away from the public, the tourists, the sightseers, the voyeurs, and what Miller calls "the metal-detector assholes."

Tim Lambert, who owns the woods where many of the remains were found, agrees that the paramount concern has to be the families.

"They are forced to live with this tragedy every day," he says. "The site itself is, for the most part, the final resting place for their loved ones. People need to remember and respect that."

One of the most heartrending quotes in "Among the Heroes" is from Deena Burnett, the widow of Flight 93 passenger Tom Burnett, who is believed to have played an active role in the battle on the plane. Mrs. Burnett is describing what it's like to be the widow of a hero:

"In the beginning, everyone asked, 'Aren't you proud of him? Aren't you happy that he's a hero?' I thought, my goodness, the first thing you have to understand is, I'm just trying to put one foot in front of the other. For my husband to be anyone's hero ... I'd much prefer him to be here with me."

So we need to remember this: The heroes of Flight 93 were people on a plane. Their glory is being paid for, day after day, by grief. Tom Burnett does not belong to the nation. He is, first and foremost, Deena Burnett's husband, and the father of their three daughters. Any effort we make to claim him as ours is an affront to those who loved him, those he loved.

He is not ours.

And yet ...

... and yet he is a hero to us, he and the other people on Flight 93. We want to honor them, just as we want to honor the firefighters, police officers and civilians at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon who risked, and sometimes gave, their lives to try to rescue others. We want to honor them for what they did, and for reminding us that this nation is nowhere near as soft and selfish as we had come to believe.

We want to honor them.

And so in a few years, when grass grows once again over the place where Flight 93 hit the ground, when the "X"s have faded from the hemlocks, there will be a memorial here, an official, permanent memorial to the heroes of Flight 93. It will be dedicated in a somber and dignified ceremony, and people will make speeches. Somebody - bet on it - will quote the Gettysburg Address, the part about giving the last full measure of devotion. The speeches will be moving, but they will also prove Lincoln's point, that the words of the living can add nothing to the deeds of the dead.

Thanx 4 everything to the heroes of Flight 93!!

There will be expressions of condolence to the families, and these, too, will be heartfelt. But they will not take away the grief.

I'd much prefer him to be here with me.

And then the ceremony will end, and the people will go home. And the heroes, the people on the plane, will remain here in the ground of Somerset County.

And years will pass, and more people will come here, and more, people who were not yet born when Flight 93 went down, coming to see this famous place.

Let's hope, for their sake, that the world they live in is less troubled than it is today. Let's hope they've never had to feel anything like the pain of Sept. 11, 2001.

Let's also hope that, when they stand here, they know enough to be silent, to show respect.

Let's hope they understand why this is hallowed ground.

#9/11 #current events #life

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justfangirlthings2003 · 4 years

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Birdflash Teacher AU

NOTE: I live in UK so I know nothing about the American school system

The Physical Education teacher in the school where Physics teacher, Wally West, has left at the end of the previous academic year so Wally was prepared to find a new hire on the first day of the new term.

What he wasn’t prepared for was to walk into the staff room to find a literal angel shaking hands with Jason Todd, the English Literature teacher, with the brightest smile he had ever seen in his life.

When the mystery man turned to face him, Wally nearly combusted at the sight of a petite tanned young man with the fluffiest black hair and completely captivating blue eyes greeted him, bouncing on his heels and everything.

(“Hey there, I’m Dick Grayson. The new PE teacher.”

“H-hi I-I’m Wally. Physics. And occasionally Chemistry. It’s nice to meet you”

“Likewise,” Dick replied with a grin that made his eyes glow brighter)

It only took one and a half days for the entire school to absolutely adore the new addition to the teaching staff - even the biggest troublemakers would greet him politely when they saw him passing.

But it only took one and a half hours for Wally to be completely and utterly smitten with him.

Dick took to teaching like a fish to water: he was able to memorise his students' names on the first lesson (and what a feat that was), he was kind, funny and was clearly genuinely interested in the kids.

And Wally, being the lovesick idiot gentleman he is, offered to show him around the campus.

Whilst they were walking around, the two men started to get to know each other really well, trading stories and facts about themselves and it was only till the end of their tour that Wally realised that Dick already knew everything about the school.

(“Wait, didn’t Principal Wayne or Vice Principal Kent show you around when you were hired.”

Dick gave a sheepish grin, a beautiful red hue spreading across his already idiotically pretty face as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah they did. I guess I just wanted to spend time with you.”)

And thus began their beautiful friendship.

They would often meet each other outside of school, mostly at each other’s apartments where they would sit in silence eating takeout as they graded work or came up with lesson plans before watching a movie or playing board games or whatever.

Dick would stand in the audience and cheer the loudest every time the school’s science team would enter a competition no matter what score they got.

Also Wally totally runs the Academic Decathlon team (I saw this in Spider-Man: Homecoming, it’s a thing that actually exists right?)

And Wally attends every sports competition that Dick applies to.

One time Wally entered the gymnasium to meet Dick at the end of the period to find him doing all sorts of acrobatics and gymnastics that the human body should not be capable of.

(“He-ey, wha-what’s going on here?”

Dick leaped from his handstand on the uneven parallel bars, did a few mid-air flips and landed right on his feet in front of the gaping redhead

“Oh, I promised my students that I’d show them a few moves. I guess I got a bit carried away.”

The sight of Dick’s slightly flushed face only made his own furious blush grow darker)

The teachers immediately realised that (*Ms Potts from Beauty and the Beast voice*) there may be something there.

Most of them try to get them together

(“Hey Dick, two of my students were fighting during class today so I need to oversee their detention. Any chance you could do Cafeteria duty today. I swear I’ll do yours tomorrow.”

“Sure thing, Roy. I hope your partner isn’t too disappointed.”

“I think Wally would prefer your company over mine to be honest.”)

Even the students start shipping them.

(“So you only apply Fleming’s left hand rule to current carrying conductors in a magnetic field. Any questions about today’s lesson?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Pamela.”

“Is it true that you want to get into Mr Grayson’s pants?”

“.... everyone turn to page 190 and answer all of the questions. Also Pamela, detention”)

I just want to point out that Dick would just be an awesome teacher: he spends the mornings before class as well as breaks playing soccer or basketball with the students, he goes above and beyond because he can see greatness and potential in everyone and if anyone acts up he sits them down later and just speaks with them in a very respectful way, he’s always enthusiastic and helps all of the departments as much as he can. Oh and his office stationery and furniture are all elephant themed.

So Sports Day happens. No one was more pumped up than Dick Grayson. He’s spent weeks - weeks - getting ready. He’s bought face paint, helped the kids make banners for the different houses, and has even purchased air horns.

And Wally just looks at this beautiful man just cheering himself hoarse, laughing until his face goes red and clapping until his hands sting and just knows that this is the guy that he wants to be with.

So when Dick announces that the teachers will be taking part in races, he immediately offers to partner up for the three legged race.

They win and Dick gives him a congratulatory hug and wow - his hugs are amazing.

And after the festivities, Wally is helping Dick clear up and shyly asks him out. Dick accepts.

One thing led to another and they become a couple

The entire school finds out within a week.

Bets were won and lost. High fives were given.

Two years later, when both men come back from winter break wearing matching rings, well, you can imagine the chaos

BONUS

So in my school, we have a senior prank day where the leaving students in Year 13 get one day where they get to prank every teacher without any repercussions as long as they don’t go too far (and boy do I have stories) so I imagine that Dick is like the teacher that helps them by doing work on the inside. (like staying late one day so that the entire class can sneak into the staff room and use the printer to print out pictures of Nick Cage to replace photographs with)

One year in my school they made a poster that shipped two male teachers in my school and pasted them all around the sixth form building, that was done to Dick and Wally.

#birdflash #birdflash headcanon #dickwally #wallydick #dick grayson #wally west

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oneirataxxiaa · 4 years

Text

WITCHES AND DRUIDS

a little gift for @silverdecepticon93 for their amazing writing. some klarion content!

written by Persephone. Anastasia did some editing and helped me write Klarion correctly. It's a bit of a slow burn, and I probably got some story facts wrong, but I hope you enjoy!

requests are OPEN , remember to specify who you would like to write your oneshot. Anastasia, or Persephone.

• • • •

It's not that the weather wasn't pleasurable, it was, really. the sun was out, reflecting off the oceans subtle waves and warming the grey pavement just enough for beach-goers with no shoes to begin to hop from foot to foot. The wind was perfect, swaying the tall palm trees that lined the coastal road, every now and again, causing a hat to fly off in its cool breeze, making it's owner run after it with calls of protest. A girl in her late teens leaned back on a uncomfortably tacky faux beach chair just outside the open air cafe. Her hair moved slowly, partially from the outside breeze and partially from the squeaking old metal fan making slow rotations just inside the door. It blew no dust, so it was clearly well used considering the heat.

Happy Harbour seemed just that, happy. Everything had been calm the past few months, villain attacks were incredibly low, no major plots had been uncovered, and the group known as The Light was seemingly inactive after the league and teams triumph over them. The lack of attacks had Robin and Kaldur on edge anticipating something being planned in the shadows, but Y/n, Artemis, Megan and Wally had taken the opportunity to enjoy Rhode Island for what it was. In the ginger speedsters words, a paradise just waiting to be explored.

Zatanna Zatura was across the round table from Y/n, in casual clothes with a black baseball cap and a vanilla milkshake in hand, sipping on the straw slowly. Y/n herself had her favourite flavor smoothie resting on the table, her phone in hand as the camera on the device recorded what was happening in the small grass patch to their left. Wallace West swore on his life that he had landed a back flip the day before, which the rest of his friends refused to believe. In trying to prove his ability, he was attracting some strange stares from passers by, and rather ice filled glare from a mother who corralled her three kids, most likely in their early preteens, away, hurriedly muttering about 'unethical teenager'. Quite an interesting thing to be thrown their way, but the teen heroes had had worse hurled at them in their exploits as protectors of justice.

"Wally" Megan laughed, a short snort escaping her lips as she watched the boy try to land another flip. " You're going to break something". The Martian was resting on the grass, watching what was happening unfurl.

"cheers to that! please do!" Artemis' words were filled with sarcasm. The blonde teen making her way towards the table and picking up her drink to take a sip. Wally dropped to the ground again and sprawled out on the grass, crushing the green blades under his body. Y/n cringed slightly.

"you girls are no fun, even Connor is more fun to hang out with, at least he encourages me to improve my wicked moves" Wally pulled himself to his feet with a bounce and brushing off his pants with little success, the mucky dew soaked dirt already staining them brown at the knees. Y/n was glad he did his own laundry, she didn't want to be the one to wash those stains out. The girl stopped the video on her phone with the press of a button, dropping her hand to her side and turning the object off.

"I'd like to argue with that" Connor complained, he seemed to have appeared out of no where, walking towards them, ebony shirt still sporting the superman signal. He seemed a little happier today, perhaps it was the immaculate weather. Y/n reckoned it could put anyone in a good mood, even Connor, who hadn't been as happy has he could have been lately. His relationship with Megan had be strained.

"The man, the myth, the legend, how could you betray me my main man? You're really going to let the girls pick on your best friend?" Wallys drama queen was showing as he rested a hand on his head in a damsel in distress motion.

"Wolf is my best friend, you are" Connor faked a thoughtful expression, "an unfortunate acquaintance". Y/n could see the joking sparkle in Connors eyes. It was strange. Strange, but good. He deserved some joy in these darker days. "anyways, the reason I'm here for two reasons, reason one being because Robin decided to have an identity crisis, he's changing his name"

"Please tell me it's not another bird, I don't want it to be a bird" Artemis groaned, dropping heavily into one of the chairs. It groaned in protest from the sudden and violent weight.

"I don't know what he's gone with, but second reason I'm here is because we've got a new team member, Batman just made a visit and brought someone with him-"

"Batman was at the cave! and you didn't tell me! is he still there?" Wally began to vibrate from excitement, sparks ran down his arms and legs.

"When I left he was, bu-". Wally was gone in a literal flash, leaving the remaining team looking around frantically, glade the citizens of Happy Harbour seemed content in being too interested in their own lives to notice a super-powered boy and his friends.

"we should probably make sure he doesn't break anything, and welcome the new team member huh?" Zatanna said with a sigh, getting to her feet and stretching her arms up, elbows cracking slightly. As the group collected their drinks, waving goodbye to the cafes owner, who they knew well due to their frequent return to the place, Y/n saw something that peaked her interest, making the girl pause and turn towards it.

"Y/n, you coming or what girl?" Zatanna called out. The group somehow was a good ways away from her now, standing, ready to cross the pedestrian crossing at the coastal road. The curious frown on her face must have given something away.

"um, I'll catch up, yeah? say hi to the newbie for me?" the uncertainty in her voice made Zatanna pause, but nod, turning back just in time to walk with the others across the road.

Turning back towards the curiosity, it stared at her with dark eyes, watching her movement. Y/n walked over and bent down, petting the feline behind it's ears, coaxing a purr from the familiar cat-daemon.

"Hello Teekl" the teen greeted, "what are you doing here?" her hand continued to pet the creature, before it shook it's head, pushing your hand away with the action and going to work on licking its paw. Cats were always strange, but she supposed their sudden mood changed were due to their nature.

"I feel like you're just in this for the cute cat" the voice was monotonous and Y/n recognised it immediately. Turning her head slightly, she spied the source of the voice. He looked different, slightly older, taller, and dressed in more civilian esque clothing. Perhaps to attempt to blend in with the surrounding crowds of people.

"The cats a bonus" Y/n gave one final pet to Teekl before walking to the table she was sitting at previously, Klarion Bleak now occupying Zatannas previous location. "How are you? I haven't seen you since the whole light thing". I'd been about five months and the league was still recovering. Klarion got a sour look on his face, pausing, he fiddled with the hem of his shirt, a neat black button up dress shirt. He looked, perplexed.

"I've been keeping my head down I guess, Savage lose his mind after we lost, been hounding anyone who talks to about it" the strange look remained on his face. "I've been banned from annoying the justice brats, no offence, until he comes up with something new"

Y/n dismissed the nickname for her team and frowned herself. "Robins noticed, it's got him freaked out, running crazy circles trying to figure out what Vandal Savage is planning" a small grin rose on her face. Klarion noticed movement, seeing small clovers begin to crawl their way out of the cracks in the pavement. That caused the small smile that few saw to appear.

"your magic is getting better". That was how they met. Before the team. Both of them were young magic users, each pulled down a different road. One good, One evil. But between them there was balance, peace. Order and Chaos meeting in the middle for a calm chat and shared news on a sunny day.

"I've been getting better at it, but there's always room for more practice as Aqualad says" Y/n laughed. Silence entered their conversation. It wasn't awkward however, as it sometimes was among friends or co workers. It was a comfortable silence of enjoying a summers day without the chaos of the world. It be nice if things stayed like that, balanced, forever. But soon, Unfortunately, their friendship would burn and break. Being torn to their sides, ripped from the comforting friendship, forced to fight each other to prove loyalty to each side. No. Order and Chaos were balanced, but wars tended to tip that scale and break it. In the process, something much more important was shattered.

fin

#young justice x reader #young justice oneshot #klarion x reader

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mypearchive · 3 years

Photo

PHILIP ETTINGER  in HBO Series I Know This Much Is True

 PHOTOGRAPHY Mark Squires FASHION EDITOR Deborah Ferguson  Interview by Sydney Nash

 Philip Ettinger is an American actor, whose credits include starring alongside Ethan Hawke and Amanda Seyfried in “First Reformed” and “The Evening Hour,” which debuted at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. Ettinger’s most recent project is HBO’s “I Know This Much is True,” helmed by director Derek Cianfrance and starring Mark Ruffalo. Based on Wally Lamb’s acclaimed novel by the same name, it tells the story of the complicated relationship of two brothers (twins), one of which lives with paranoid schizophrenia. Ruffalo stars as the older iteration of the twins, while Ettinger inhabits the two characters in their youth. ContentMode spoke to the actor about the limited series and arguably, his best performance yet.

 Q: Before we dive into questions about I Know This Much Is True, I must first say, bravo. This show is visceral, heart-wrenching, and achingly beautiful. It was a very emotional experience watching, I must say. I’m curious as to the type of feedback you’ve been hearing from viewers and the people around you about the show.

 A: Thanks for saying that. This project is so close to my heart. It felt super emotional shooting it… it’s been really special. You know we’re going through such a fucking crazy time right now. You make a thing and have that whole experience of shooting it, and then you never really know how it might connect in the time of when it’s finally released. When I’m working on something, I’m so much in the state of not even thinking of it as being a product. Then, when it’s time for it to come out, it’s a bit of a mind fuck and scary. And this in particular was such a vulnerable experience. Everyone gave so much of their heart to it. It’s being released in a really crazy and heavy time, and the show deals with a lot of real and heavy things. But what’s been amazing is the people who have reached out to me to tell me how important it’s been to them. And how much of an emotional balm it’s been. People have vulnerably shared with me how this show has made them feel less alone in their own unique situations and emotions. Honestly, it’s been fucking beautiful to see how much we all can relate and share in the really difficult work of being a human being.

 We’re all connected. It’s been a nice reminder for me personally in this isolating time of quarantine.

 Q: Tell me about how this role came about. I know you’ve been a long admirer of Mark Ruffalo’s work, so this must have been a dream project.

 A: The whole thing just feels kind of kismet. One day, I get a random email from a friend of mine who was going in to audition for young Dessa (younger Kathryn Hahn). This was before I really knew anything about it. She forwarded me her appointment with the script and said, “You should be young Dominick/Thomas.” All of young Dessa’s scenes were with young Dominick/Thomas, so I was able to see what it was like.

 I’ve always looked up to Mark and have been compared to him in the past. I even wrote him a letter when I was in acting school and doing This Is Our Youth, which was the play he did in New York, and I expressed to him how much I connect to his work. He was doing Awake and Sing! on Broadway at the time and I went to see the play and gave him the letter. On top of that, I grew up with a brother who dealt with schizophrenic symptoms. I felt a really strong purpose to tell this story as real and accurately as possible. It’s rare when it happens, but sometimes things come along where it’s much deeper than it just being a job. The purpose for doing it is so strong and instinctual that I’m able to move through any fears or insecurities to do it. I went into this audition with a really strong sense that I was the person who was meant to help tell this story.

 Q: Did you and Mark ever prep for the role together? I’ve read that you and him took a long walk around the Upper West Side before shooting started.

 A: Yeah we did. The way it worked was Mark shot all of Dominick first and then took a month and a half off to gain about 50 pounds in order to play Thomas. During that time off is when I shot most of my stuff. We would text back and forth with ideas and before shooting began we hung out and read each other’s scenes together. Then Mark went off to shoot his Dominick side. Derek Cianfrance our director showed me a bunch of Mark’s dailies for me to kind of get a sense of what Mark was doing with Dominick, but when it came to Thomas, I was the first one to introduce what he’d be like. It was fucking scary because I wanted to be as instinctual as possible and to make my own unique choices. At the same time, I didn’t want to paint Mark into a corner because he’d have to evolve whatever I was doing into older Thomas.

About a week before I went to shoot, I met Mark on the Upper West Side at a diner. We talked for hours. I had been waiting in the wings for months, getting ready to take over when he took his break. I can be a pretty obsessive thinker, so at that point, I was pretty much bursting holding these two distinctly different characters inside of me, ready to express myself and let my Dominick and Thomas out. At the same time, I was absolutely terrified because the thing I’d been obsessing about and literally having intense symbolic dreams about was finally going to happen. Mark encouraged me to make it my own, and on the way out of the diner, I started to tell him about these crazy and intense dreams I was having that were kind of informing me who these guys were. He said, “I’ve been having dreams too. Let’s take a walk,” and then we just walked like 50 city blocks. We were just meshing our energies, ideas and physicalities, as well as sharing stories and quickly connecting on a really vulnerable level to each other. We were having very similar dreams. It was crazy and beautiful and a night I’ll always remember. Talking about it now makes me yearn to get back into more collaborative experiences again.

 Q: If you don’t mind me asking, how emotionally intense was performing the roles of both Dominick and Thomas? Did you find one character more challenging than the other and were you able to separate the two performances, or were they always informing the other?

A: It’s hard to really describe it using words. The whole thing was one big instinctual and emotional experiment. It was kind of impossible to anticipate the best way to make it all work.

First day was completely trial and error. Mark shot each character separately with a lot of time apart, but I was having to do every scene going back and forth. The whole thing was very out of body and cathartic. Or more like in my body and out of my head.

 It’s interesting, I’ve been doing therapy in quarantine and have worked a bit with childhood regression exercises and going back to a time when I was four or five. I’ll go back on impulse and really connect to the feelings I was feeling without too much awareness of social rules and insecurities and ideas of how I needed to be and act. Then, doing the same thing, but going back to the thirteen year old version of me, who at that point had been knocked around a bit and was very insecure and shut down and scared and had less trust and freedom of emotion. Both of them are very alive inside of me. Shooting every scene, I’d be Dominick and feel really repressed and kind of locked up and angry and insecure in my feelings. Then when I’d switch over to Thomas, I got to rip off the shield and filter that I’ve created to personally protect myself in my life and just feel my feelings and pain and fear and anger and fully be on my impulse in a safe environment. It was freeing and painful and blissful, and all of the feelings. I gave myself permission not to judge myself. Then, I’d go back into Dominick and the shield went back up. It was a lot of back and forth of that.

 Honestly, it’s impossible to really explain it in retrospect. It was like one giant therapeutic experiment. It definitely changed me and gave me some different perspectives.

 Q: Did you ever feel like your acting influenced Mark’s performance or vice versa?

 A: It felt like one ongoing collaboration. We were taking from each other from the preparation through the shooting. But there was an ease to it all, which just shows how generous Mark is as a human being and artist. He didn’t have to invite me in the way he did. I’m very grateful for that.

 Q: What was it like working with director Derek Cianfrance? Did Derek allow you to bring your own experiences and POV to your characters?

 A: Derek is my emotional soul brother. The guy has so much fucking heart and just sets up an atmosphere of trust and love and challenges you to go deeper than any ideas you may have and to find the truth of every moment. He wants you to bring all of your heart and soul to the part. He’s done so much work and has thought so deeply about the characters and the scenes, but then challenges and almost expects you to surprise him. It’s all about, as he says, ‘trying to capture Halley’s Comet in every scene.’ Something that’s straight from impulse and truth and surprising and spontaneous and can never be exactly recreated. It’s all a big experiment and diving into the truth of every dynamic and relationship.

That’s exactly the way I love to work, so it was just a fucking dream to play like that. 

But in order to work at that level, you need to have such trust in the leader and it needs to be such a safe environment. With Derek, I just felt so safe.

 Q: Tell me a little bit about how filming two characters on-screen at the same time worked. How much of what the audience sees when Dominick and Thomas are together is CGI?

 A: It’s crazy. The editing is incredible. Other than a few connecting shots, many of the scenes the two brothers are never in the same shot together. I think Derek wanted to make it feel as natural and un-CGI as possible, so he relied on the performances to connect the dots. The response has been that it feels pretty seamless and not a distraction, which is great to hear. We all definitely tried to avoid the trick of it all and really cared about making each brother his own three dimensional being.

 Q: The show was shot on film as compared to digitally. What’s the difference that shooting on film makes to the final product and the audience experience?

 A: It’s awesome. It was my first time shooting on film. There’s a heightened intensity to it all, because there’s a limited amount of time before the film rolls out. It’s exciting. I tend to work best and am able to commit more when adrenaline is a little higher and there’s a little more pressure. There’s also something more tactile about it all. It feels more activated and felt like we were shooting a movie instead of a TV show.

 Q: I’ve read in other interviews where you’ve spoken about how your relationship with your own brother (who has a history with schizophrenic symptoms) influenced your performance. Can you tell me a little bit about this (if you don’t mind sharing)? How important was authenticity to you?

 A: My brother is doing great now. It’s amazing. But there was a long time when I was growing up where he was suffering. I watched him struggle through a lot of thoughts and emotions inside of his head. On the flip side, he was probably the most honest, empathetic and connected-to-the-energy-around-him person that I knew. And has deeply affected how I see things in a really special way. I also watched my parents try and understand and protect and deal with it and help. And do the best that they possibly could under the circumstances. They were amazing. But I also watched them struggle and make questionable decisions in order to help in the only ways they knew how. I was also having my own experience.

 What was so important to me about this show was to be able to express all sides of the situation and the nuance to it all. Often, when there’s mental illness in a family, everyone is doing the best that they can with the tools that they have. Sometimes the “crazy” one is the most tapped in and actually present and intuitive and available. Sometimes the ones, who on the surface have their shit together, have no idea what they are doing.

 I think this was a way for me to express myself and better understand what repressed feelings I had having a brother with mental illness. One thing’s for certain: I don’t think anyone involved was interested in anything but navigating the truths and realities of these situations.

 Q: Based on your own experiences with your brother, the director Derek added in a scene to one of the episodes. Can you elaborate on what this scene was?

 A: Yeah, I told Derek a bunch of stories about me and my brother. There was a period of time when he was around 22 and in the midst of a mental break. I was around 9, and we shared a room. Some of the stories were scary, but a lot of them were really funny and beautiful. I observed my brother be so present and tapped in to the energy and people around him. Sometimes his thoughts would get away from him, but almost always, the impulse of the thought and the intuition he would have was so on point. It made me feel like he was often more present and truthful and sane than so many other people around me who seemed to be repressing, overlooking and complying to the rules of society and the pressures of fitting in and saying and doing the right and popular thing. I felt like he really took me in and saw me better than anyone else.

 I told Derek about how often my brother’s energy felt so expansive and truthful to his feelings that it would be infectious to the people around him and magical to me. And then Derek added a scene in episode 4 where Thomas is feeling a lot of emotions and the best way he’s able to express himself is through unadulterated dance. It’s a moment that Dominick watches on and knows he’d never be able to be so free in his emotions to express himself like that. [Derek] told me he added that scene inspired by the stories I told him about my brother.

 Q: At its core, the show is about the relationship between two brothers, but the show touches on so many different enduring themes. What about the story speaks most strongly to you?

 A: We’re all trying to get through life in the best ways that we know how. We all have unique family situations, life expectations, and struggles and pains on different levels. The show and Wally Lamb’s novel just touches on what it’s like to be human and the possibility for growth and change when it may feel like it’s impossible. As he says, “But what are our stories if not the mirrors we hold up to our fears.” And another quote that seems to resonate more than ever: “With destructions comes renovations.”

 Q: You must be very proud of this show and the reception it’s receiving. How did you feel seeing the finished product?

 A: It feels a little surreal to watch. It’s hard for me to fully take in my own stuff or to judge it good and bad, but what I will say is that there’s so much heart in the show and I’m forever proud and grateful to be a part of it. And to watch Mark and Rosie and Kathryn and John and Melissa and Archie and everyone else and feel so connected to them. And to have my family watch it and have it inspire new conversations between us. It feels very healing in a lot of ways.

 Q: Moving forward, what types of roles are you hoping to pursue? What’s the most important aspect of a project to you?

 A: I don’t really know. I want to continue to work with people who inspire me and to feel a purpose with what I’m doing beyond ego and expectation. And to keep doing stuff that really scares me and to ultimately just find things that will help me evolve and gain some different perspectives. To continue to do things that make me feel connected and out of my own head.

I’ve been lucky to be a part of a few things where everyone involved is connected and on the same page and doing it for the right reasons, and the material is strong and every once in a while, when all those stars are aligned you can have moments of transcendence absent of ego and fear and judgement and you’re just riding on your impulse and intuition and heart. I want to keep chasing that.

 Q: With the world in the midst of a pandemic and social unrest, what are you most hopeful for?

 A: How connected we all really are even though the world feels divided right now. There’s so much pain and fear and anger right now, but there’s also a lot of change happening. And beauty. If there’s any silver lining to all of this loss, pain and suffering, I think it’s that it’s forced us to be more present with our families and loved ones. And maybe break some habits that we’d never be able to break on our own. And slowed things down a bit. And forced us all to look inward and to take a pause from all the fast and constant external validation so many of us think we want or need. I’ve witnessed thousands of people coming together to support each other and to stand up to injustice. This time has been traumatic on many levels for everyone, and I’m sure there will be long term effects of that, but also I’m excited to see the positive effects and positive changes this time may cause. In a way, it felt like we needed a bit of a reset and recalibration to really make some changes.

Quick Qs

 Q: If you weren’t an actor, what would you be?

A: Maybe a therapist? I’m endlessly fascinated in why people do what they do and how they do it. And don’t do things. And why. And the relationship between our conscious and unconscious bodies and minds. And the potential of evolving our thought patterns past or through our blocks and pain and traumas. I’ve also spent a lot of time working one-on-one with autistic kids and adults, so maybe that. Something to do with human behavior and connection and growth and expression. Or if I was taller and more athletically gifted, it would be pretty damn cool to be an NBA basketball player.

 Q: Role model?

 A: Literally anyone who’s able to get through life with continued kindness, open-heartedness, positivity and evolution.

Q: Pet peeve?

A: People giving advice to other people based on what they would want or how they would act or react, instead of taking in the other person’s perspective.

Q: Most slept-on movie?

 A: This is not particularly slept on, but this conversation and question is making me think of The Devil and Daniel Johnston.

 Q: The last thing you binged?

 A: I’m a novice TV watcher. This past year and during quarantine is the first time I’ve really caught up on shows. Recently I’ve gone through Mad Men, The Affair – Maura Tierney’s so good in that. I just watched Normal People. I thought Paul Mescal was such a subtle and good actor in that. Oh, and In Treatment. I love In Treatment. I just heard that they may be bringing it back, which is exciting to hear. The nuances of two people in a room talking for a long time really does it for me.

 Q: Dream role?

 A: Hamlet? Even though that scares the shit out of me and seems to be a cliche’d answer for an actor my age.

Q: What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

 A: To try easier. It’s not necessarily the amount of time spent working, but more the quality and headspace of that time.  Also, to stop trying to control the outcome of what and how I think I want something to go. Because guaranteed it won’t go exactly as planned and trying to force what I think is the best thing is quantifying and limiting the possibilities of what it could be.  And something that I saved that Mark actually said to me:  Hang tough, stay real, make your shots count when you get them and no matter what, keep moving. Just keep moving.

 _______________________________________________ 

For remaining photographs from the Content Mode article, scroll down to the next post.

 (I am archiving this entire article here, because I have no idea whether or not the Content Mode site will continue to host the Ettinger interview in the future, as more is published there in time. No copyright infringement is intended.)

#philip ettinger #i know this much is true #iktmit #mark ruffalo #derek cianfrance #first reformed

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rustdream · 4 years

Text

Mustache Kid makes a New Friend hee hoo

Yea! A smol story for @promisedangel‘s roleswap AU! I wrote this at night so some things may be grammatically incorrect. I hope this is good!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The air was full of tension as Mustache Kid stood infront of the ice walls that surrounded her destination. By some sort of miracle, they were perfectly intact, despite the immense heat the forest gave off daily. While it’s a neat discovery all on its own, it would mean that she would have to bust her way in. She was taken out of her thoughts when she heard a chuckle behind her. The voice belonged to none other than the Matriarch, the ruler of Subcon and the pain in the butt that’s been threatening her into doing favors for her. “It’s quite the feat, isn’t it?” The shadowy being asked, floating besides the girl.

Mustache Kid sighed in annoyance, causing the ghost’s angelic features to distort. “Now don’t take that ton with me, child. This will be different than the other favors you’ve done!” The passive aggressive tone had set in, as she feigned cheerfulness. The Matriarch clasped her hands together, “You’ll be delivering a gift to my special Prince for his birthday!” Mustache Kid turned to her as the gift box was born from red flames, the embers forming the luxurious bow. As much as she hated to admit it that box had a pretty darn cool shade of red. “Okay…but why don’t you do it? Since it’s your gift.” Mustache Kid questioned, as the Matriarch’s expression softened. “Oh, how I wish I could give him the gift myself! Unfortunately, my temper had gotten the better of me and…we got into a fight. Now the poor thing’s scared of me.” It was clear that queen of Subcon was being exaggeratingly dramatic right then, as she had no qualms about threatening children with execution twice fold. Still, the kid didn’t have much choice, as the box was shoved into her hands. Mustache Kid had a couple of moments before she realized that her bombs were gone. “Hey!”

“Oh and, by the way. The Prince is very finicky, so these,” The Matriarch held the bag of bombs in her hands with the heat threatening to set them off, “are out of the question. Now get to it.” As Mustache Kid jumped through the ice pillars infront of her, she could her the cold-hearted monarch say something about burning her if she was to break the box. But she was used to those threats, and there wasn’t much to worry about anyways. She continued, occasionally having to break the walls with the fiery fruits and Dwellers hiding around. Eventually she had made it to the other side of the labyrinth of walls and was immediately hit with the extremely cold weather. She adjusted her cape to cover herself and waded through the thick snow, in the direction of the manor in the distance. When she neared the front porch, she could see glowing yellow eyes peer at her through the attic window for a quick second, before blinking out of sight. Hopefully, this ‘Prince’ wouldn’t be as much as an immoral jerk as the Matriarch was. She went to knock on the door before the wood had turned to ice and being rendered unopenable. Mustache Girl groaned as she kicked an ice statue near, but her attitude quickly changed to fear when said statue came to life and tried to smash her head open. Running from living creatures of cold terror, she had ducked into the cellar in the back and shut the doors. While one might think this wouldn’t stop them from breaking in, it did. In fact, they seemed to leave as soon as the door had locked!

Well, she already made it in the house, might as well deliver it personally. She skidded through the cellar floor, the spilled wine having been frozen over the years. Managing to make it upstairs without busting her bust on the slippery ice, she was relieved to find that the rest of the house’s flooring wasn’t in the same state. Mustache Kid wandered down the hallways, the carpeted floors keeping her footsteps quiet. Suddenly, she had heard the sound of glass breaking coming from the room besides her. In an act of impulse, she opened the door, leading her to the library. There didn’t seem to be anyone in here. A broken vase sure, and an ice sculpture that was whispering to her. Wait. On closer inspection, it was a Wally! Though, he was frozen everywhere but his head. “Hey, Little Mustached Child, why are you here?” He asked, his voice shaky and low. Before she could answer, the air grew darker as footsteps could be heard. “Quick! Hide, Get out of Here!” Mustache Kid wasn’t about to question it, she simply slid under the low bookshelves, the gift box conveniently fitting through with her. Just in time too, as a shadowy figure entered the room. It had the same aura that the Matriarch gave off, but its figure was slightly deformed and monstrous. It was safe to assume that this was the Prince that she was referring to. His yellow eyes scanned the scene, panic present in them.

His head snapped towards the Wally as the frozen man panicked. “H-hello Best Friend! I was being clumsy and um, knocked it over-” He frantically tried to explain, as the shadow interrupted him. “You promised, you promised that you wouldn’t break any more stuff last time you broke these. You broke my things, gifts to you last week and you said, ‘Wally will fix that’, ‘Wally won’t break stuff again’. But did you live up to that? No nononono, you didn’t you just lied and lied, and you know how I HATE liars.” The Prince ranted, as the ice on Wally’s body consumed more of him. Mustache Kid watched as he was frozen completely and smashed to pieces by this raving lunatic. The shadows mad shrieks soon dissolved into tears, burying his head in his hands. Mustache Kid slowly crawled out of her hiding spot, placing the gift behind the sobbing mess. She then tried to tip toe her way out of the room before a voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Who are you?” The Prince spoke through sobs, as the girl turned to meet his gaze. She seemed to stammer quite a lot, obviously nervous. The royal’s gaze slowly drifted to the nicely wrapped gift between them, the sight swinging his mood straight into a happy delirium. “Did you bring this gift, a gift for me? I’m good enough for gifts?” He asked hopefully, pure joy blooming inside his chest when she had nodded. The Prince chuckled as he suddenly swooped both the box and Mustache Kid in his arms, straight to a bedroom. This caused the kid to become upset, not understanding why he was doing this. But, he simply placed her on a pile of pillows, as he ‘sat’(more along the lines of coiled on) the bed with the gift in his lap. As he tore open the wrapping, Mustache Kid looked around to determine her situation. Everyone but the two of them were frozen solid. Some of them are seals, cats, a lot of them Wallies. “Great, this might as well happen.” She mumbled, as she heard the Prince gasp in surprise. Well, she’s kind of stuck here, might as well find out what the gift was!

A pile of bacon. That was literally it. It wasn’t even good, all of it was charred to crispy charcoal. However, the Prince was very happy to receive this gift. He started scarfing it down quickly, as if as soon as he stopped it would be all gone. He then froze up suddenly. He could hear them. His friends, they were hungry too. They deserved this gift more than he did, and he’s just hogging it like the selfish friend he is. He doesn’t deserve such a nice thing as this, with how horrid he was being. Of course, Mustache Kid didn’t hear any of that. She just looked on in confusion as the Prince went around the room, trying to shove bacon down the ice statues’ throats. Though that went as well as you’d expect it to, as it either fell out (with the Prince eating it anyways) or it just stayed in the mouths of the frozen creatures around him. He made it to Mustache Kid, offering her a handful of burnt bacon. “Oh um, no thanks. I’ve already. Eaten on the way here you know and, snacks aren’t my thing?” She refused, thoughts of an elaborate escape plan flooding through her mind. The Prince sat back on the bed, facing away from everyone as he consumed the rest of the food on his plate. After he was done, he turned to Mustache Kid and held her hands in his freezing cold hands. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for this wonderful gift. I’ll cherish it, I’ll love it. Never forget it, thank you new friend!” He repeatedly thanked her, his breath hitching as he started to mumble incoherently to himself. He then stood upright, seeming to have snapped back into reality. “It seems like it’s getting dark! None of you, none of you are leaving, r-right? GOOD! Good, I guess that means that we can have a slumber party. You – YOU will join us, won’t you New Friend?” He asked the child, as ice started to form on her legs.

Mustache Kid sat on the pillow pile on the floor, bored out of her mind. Since her bombs are gone and this guy can freeze her in an instant, fighting her way out is out of the question. So is straight up running for the exit. For now, she just has to play along with it. However, the only entertainment right now was watching him start up conversations with the frozen people besides him. And even then it wasn’t really funny. Just sad. She would perk up whenever he spoke to her though. Mainly because he could kill her if she didn’t answer. “Oh, sure! I agree! No way!” After a long while of talking, the Prince stood up. “Okay everyone! I’ve gotten everything prepared for tonight! A nice view, snacks…wait. No, no snacks??” His head rotated 180 degrees (grossing the kid out a bit), facing the empty table meant for housing the refreshments. How could he forget? He should have thought this through! He has a new friend he needs to impress, and this is his first impression? A forgetful dumb stupid idiot who disappoints everyone he meets? He could feel the hateful stares burn up as he backed out of the room. “I’m, I’m going to go get the, snacks. Friend! New Friend, can you come with me?” He practically tugged Mustache Kid out of the room, and downstairs into the kitchen.

Mustache Kid gathered up what small amount of treats she could find in the abandoned cabinets on the table, as the Prince got ready the tea. A couple of crackers, and some preserved fruits. She turned to the Prince, who was shaking as he continuously stirred the tea. At the very least, he was a lot nicer than the Matriarch. “Not many snacks…are there?” She questioned, more out of concern for how he’s been living all this time. While she figured that ghosts don’t need to eat to live, it seemed to cause the Matriarch pain when she missed a meal, imagine living with only this. The Prince put the tea kettle on the tray, along with the cups, before answering. “Hang on, there’s more, I’ll get them.” He walked hurriedly to a hollow spot in the walls, before sliding it aside to reveal some bigger snacks, such as a bag of fish chips of the CC brand and a slice of velvet jelly cake. All of it seems to have been frozen to last, the velvet jelly was absolutely solid when he placed it on the table. Mustache Kid grabbed the snacks, as the Prince carried the tea tray upstairs. “By the way, I’m sorry for being so forgetful. It’s really awful on my part, I hope you can forgive me.” He told her, as they set the tea and snacks down. Of course she’d forgive him, it’s not like he has anything he needs to apologize for.

The night seemed to have gotten better. The two were now talking about law, and frankly hearing about this planets views on justice and law enforcement was pretty interesting. Until he got into the nitty gritty details of it. Not that it was boring, it was just the simple fact that they have all these policies and fallacies and such. But it isn’t complex! There are bad people who need to be arrested, like the Matriarch, whole there are good people who arrest the bad, like herself! Still, she listened intently to his rambles about law theory. Something the Prince isn’t used to! Usually when he rambles to people, they ignore him. It always made him feel like he didn’t matter but when he asked Mustache Kid if she was listening she actually responded! Mustache Kid took a sip of her tea, and grimaced. The tea was ice cold. Which was understandable since the person who made the tea could freeze things with his bare claw hands. But there was also the fact that she actually wasn’t a tea person. The Prince caught on to this. “Is there something wrong? Is it not good enough? I’m sorry I’ll make a new kettle if you hate it-“

“It’s good, it’s okay!” Mustache Kid assured him, almost becoming numb from the ice that had formed up to her knees. It was thin, luckily. She placed a hand on the Prince’s shoulder as he calmed down. “Oh, I’m sorry I just got worried and…” He eventually stopped talking as he leaned into her arms, humming as she petted his head. He liked this, it’s nice. She’s nice. Most of his other friends didn’t hug him like that, they didn’t even tell him nice things. He’s heard of BFFS, Best Friends Forever. Maybe people that nice are BFFs? The Prince never had enough friends to tell. He’ll need to hide her from Vanessa. She’ll come and burn him again, and maybe even burn his new BFF like everything other bit of happiness he hoarded. He didn’t want to think of that. Whenever he did his mind devolved into this dark place he can’t get out of. “So what’s the next event on our list of fun?” Mustache Kid asked, distracting the Prince from his thoughts. “A dance.”

#ahit #a hat in time #swap au #the prince #mustache kid #ahit au #ahit swap au #the matriarch

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